Found But Still Searching
by dragonwrangler
Summary: A Touch of Smith and Jones fic. Rhodey has found Tony, but Tony still needs to find himself. Movieverse- Part I of III, slash in Part III.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Touch of Smith and Jones: Found... But Still Searching

Fandom: Iron Man (2008)

Ficverse: A Touch of Smith and Jones

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None for Parts I & II, slash in Part III.

Summary: Rhodey has found Tony, but Tony still has to find himself.

Author's Notes: Missing scene fic. Takes place between the scene of Tony in the desert through to the scene where Tony returns to California. Takes place in the Doctor Who universe.

Disclaimer: Iron Man is the property of MVL LLC.  
**  
Found... But Still Searching, Chapter One**

"We've got something. Single figure. Seems to be heading away from target. Should we check it out?"

"It's the wrong side of the mountain."

"Could have been an observer."

"Possibly. Colonel? Want us to check it out?"

Colonel James Rhodes-- Rhodey to his friends-- felt a touch of surprise and relief when Captain Morrison turned and asked him to make the call. He was just riding shotgun on this mission; Morrison had let him join his crew as a friendly favor and he had stayed silent for that reason only during the discussion. While the odds were low that the failed missile launch that had put them in the air would give them a lead to Tony Stark's location, the odds of finding Tony wandering around in the middle of nowhere were practically non-existent.

Still…

"Do it," Rhodes said. "If they're heading away from the target, they might have information about what's going on over there."

Morrison nodded and passed the order on to the other pilot. The two HH-60G Pave Hawks heeled over with Morrison taking the left, falling back slightly to give the spotter the lead. As they turned away from the column of smoke that had put them in the air, Rhodey leaned over the co-pilot's shoulder to look ahead at the golden dunes now spreading out before them.

Rhodey knew this whole mission was a long shot, but he didn't have many options left. He was running out of time. The only reason his superiors had allowed him to bounce back and forth between here and Edwards was due to Tony's value as a military asset. But the trail was now cold; there were no leads, no demands, no videos, and Rhodey knew the order to return to his duties at Edwards-- and to stay there-- was only days away.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do if nothing turned up before the order came down. He owed Tony too much to give up now, even if all he was going to end up finding was a cold dead body.

"Figure doesn't appear to be armed," the spotter said.

"We'll do a flyby to make sure before we get any closer," Rhodey said as he spotted the figure in question cresting a dune a few degrees to their right. As they shot past him, the man looked up and started to wave an arm in the air.

It was impossible to get a good look at the guy since he was on the shadow side of the dune, making any identifying details blur together. All Rhodey could make out was the shape of the man as he fell to his knees, holding a hand up to give them a 'V' sign. There was something wrapped around the man's head, and he appeared to be wearing a dark sleeveless t-shirt with a circular logo on the front and pants that looked a little ragged below the knees; but there was nothing that told Rhodey who or what the guy was doing out here.

"Doesn't look like he was planning on taking a hike across the desert," Morrison said as they turned back towards the figure.

"No, it doesn't." Rhodey clapped Morrison on the shoulder. "Take us down."

The Pave Hawk cautiously settled to the ground a safe distance away; the backwash from the rotating blades flipping sand into the air and obscuring their view of the man. Rhodey jumped to the ground, along with a four-man team, and ran towards the figure.

The man's hand dropped heavily into his lap as they approached. Going by his body language, he seemed more relieved than concerned by the fact he now had four men and a circling helicopter pointing their guns at him. Rhodey braced himself for bitter disappointment as he took in the man's dirty clothing and scraggly beard; but when the man tilted his head back, and Rhodey saw Tony's familiar brown eyes peering out from the rags wrapped around his head, Rhodey had to restrain a very unprofessional whoop of joy.

Rhodey slowed then stopped in front of Tony. "How was the fun-vee?" he said casually, as if it hadn't been three months since they had last seen each other.

There was a huff of amusement, and then Tony closed his eyes and smiled. Rhodey thought that smile had to be one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen as he knelt down and reached out to rest a hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony opened his eyes and met his gaze.

This close, Rhodey could see dried blood on Tony's right shoulder, lines of pain etching his face, and a mix of disbelief and hope in his eyes. "Next time," Rhodey said, his throat closing up as he stared in amazement at Tony, "you ride with me, okay?" He wrapped Tony in a one armed hug and found himself fighting back the threat of tears as he held Tony. All he wanted to do was wrap both arms around the man; but the damage to Tony's shoulder kept him from following through on that impulse.

Pulling himself together, Rhodey gave Tony another minute to catch his breath before asking softly, "Tony? We need to get you out of here. Think you can make it to the helicopter?"

Tony nodded, then took a deep breath and straightened. The sun had dipped behind the mountains and in the premature twilight blanketing the desert floor, Rhodey realized what he had assumed to be a logo in the center of Tony's sweat and bloodstained t-shirt was, in reality, a device attached to his chest-- and that the device was softly glowing.

He gripped Tony's arm, horror filling his guts as he hissed, "What the hell?" Instinct made him reach out to grab the thing as he tried to figure out how to get it off Tony without setting something off, but Tony grabbed his wrist.

"Need it," Tony breathed.

Looking at the determined expression on Tony's face, Rhodey reluctantly backed off. "Just tell me if it's safe, Tony," Rhodey said.

Tony nodded. "I made it," he said.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow at that but accepted the answer as a yes. Rhodey carefully pull Tony up with him as he got to his feet. Tony was hardly stable when they were finally upright, and Rhodey wasn't happy about the hiss of pain he heard when Tony reached up to pull the rags off his head, but Rhodey knew better than to say anything.

Sucking in another deep breath, Tony looked at the team surrounding them and announced, "Let's get this show on the road." His voice was rough and unsteady, but clear nonetheless.

It took longer than Rhodey would have liked to get Tony to the Pave Hawk; whatever strength had carried him through his ordeal was clearly fading fast. Rhodey knew they were an easy target but he was not about to try and carry Tony as long as the man was still conscious. He'd never hear the end of it.

Halfway there, Tony frowned and asked, "How'd you know where I was?"

"Didn't. We were checking out a report on a failed missile launch when we spotted you."

Tony breathed out a laugh. "Ah yeah, that. Um, that was me."

"You?"

"Yeah." Tony glanced at him and grinned. "I made me a bigger stick."

Rhodey grinned back. "They let you play with their missiles?"

"No." The grin faded, and Tony looked away as he added softly, "They let me play with my own missiles." He didn't say anything more. Rhodey could see the muscles in Tony's jaw clenching up, and for just a moment, there was a look of bewildered anger on Tony's face as they reached the helicopter.  
_  
What happened to you out there, Tony?_ Rhodey thought as he helped Tony up into the helicopter. After settling him into the gunner's seat behind Morrison, Rhodey grabbed a blanket and draped it around Tony then stood beside him as he watched their progress back to Bagram Air Field. As the Pave Hawk cut through the growing darkness, Tony leaned sideways in the seat, resting his weight against Rhodey.

When Tony started shivering as he huddled under the blanket, Rhodey muttered without looking down at Tony, "I've got your back."

He doubted Tony would be able to hear him over the noise, but Rhodey saw a tiny nod of acknowledgement out of the corner of his vision. Tony did not look up. Halfway to the base, Rhodey was sure Tony was snoring.

Rhodey smiled.

* * *

When they landed, a trauma team was already there waiting for them. Rhodey gently shook Tony awake. There was a moment of sleepy confusion, but then Tony seemed to figure out what was going on. He got to his feet without assistance, walked over to the stretcher the team had brought, and then fell right back to sleep as soon as he was down. Rhodey rode with Tony to the hospital complex, then left him in their care as he tried to remember everything on his 'Tony's back' to-do list.

First thing on that list was to contact his superiors to fill them in on the situation. Not that he would have anything to add to what they already knew-- information would have started flying out of Afghanistan the moment they radioed back they had Tony.

Once he got that out of the way, he started looking for a plane to fly Tony home in. He knew as soon as Tony regained consciousness, it was going to be virtually impossible to keep him in place. Best to have a plane standing by for when that happened.

It took less time than he expected to cross that item off the list. He found there was a fully crewed C-17 transport already waiting for him. Apparently, getting Tony out of the hot zone was a priority for more than just him.

Taking advantage of the few free moments he had gained before his next round of phone calls-- he was just waiting on the doctor's report before starting in on those-- Rhodey decided to grab a quick shower and change into some clean clothes. He wouldn't get a chance to do either of those things once Tony was awake.

As he stood under the hot water and thought about what a pain Tony was going to be when he found out his jet had been sent home without him, and how the two of them were probably going to be at each others throats by the time the C-17 hit California's airspace, Rhodey unexpectedly lost it.

There had been another to-do list in Rhodey's head; one he had memorized for an entirely different type of trip home with Tony.

A silent trip home.

He braced one hand against the wall, put his face under the showerhead and let the water wash his tears away.

* * *

A half hour later, Rhodey was leaning against the doorframe to Tony's room watching his friend sleep. Deep down, Rhodey admitted this was more in line with what he had expected. IV tubes and wires from various types of monitoring equipment all led down to figure in the bed. The blanket over Tony only covered him from the waist down, and Rhodey could see where each tube and wire was attached to Tony's body.

Rhodey couldn't remember ever seeing Tony so still and quiet. Even on the few occasions when a night of heavy drinking left Tony passed out on whatever piece of furniture happened to be nearby, there was always some odd quality about him that made him seem like he was still in motion.

That quality was missing from the figure in the bed; and the Arc Reactor imbedded in Tony's chest only emphasized that fact. It was still a little unnerving to see it there, but once Rhodey had a chance to really look at the device, that emotion had been somewhat mollified. The original sketches for the Arc Reactor had been thumb tacked to the wall of Tony's old workroom; and it was easy for Rhodey to line up his memory of the top view sketch with the device Tony now had stuck in him.

This miniaturized version of the Reactor looked indestructible. Unfortunately, Tony did not. However, Rhodey knew where Tony was concerned, looks could be deceiving.

Pushing away from the door, Rhodey pulled out his cell. There was one last call he needed to make before Tony woke up and started making demands.

There was a click on the other end of the line, and Rhodey said into the expectant silence, "He's sleeping right now; otherwise he'd be talking your ear off about his little adventure."

There was a moan from the other end. "Oh my god." Virginia "Pepper" Potts, Tony's personal secretary, took a deep breath and asked. "He's all right then?"

"Yeah, he's all right, at least as all right as you can expect under the circumstance." He paused, unwilling to tell her more.

Pepper took a deep breath, and then her voice was calm and professional as she said, "I'll find out when the insurance claims come through, Rhodey. Tell me how bad he is."

"He's dehydrated, sunburned; he's got some heavy bruising all over his torso along with some minor scorch marks up and down both arms. He's lost weight, pulled several muscles, got shot in the shoulder…"

It was Rhodey's turn to take a deep breath. "And he's got some shrapnel lodged near the wall of his heart, and the only thing keeping him alive is a device he's got implanted in the middle of his chest."

There was silence as Pepper struggled with that information. When he had first heard that, it had almost been enough to crush Rhodey's hope that everything would soon be back to normal-- until he considered the smile on Tony's face back on the dune, and the Arc Reactor smack in the middle of his chest.

He was beginning to think Tony might outlive them all.

"Pepper, he's all right. Trust me, he's all right."

"Okay." Her voice cracked. "Okay," she said again, a little steadier. "How long will he have to stay there?"

"We'll be leaving here as soon as I can safely move him."

"All right. Just let me know when you'll be coming in." She paused. "And Colonel Rhodes?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Rhodey smiled. "You're welcome Miss Potts." There was a click as she hung up. Rhodey flipped the phone shut and slipped it into his pocket as he headed back to Tony's room to wait for his friend to wake up.


	2. Chapter 2

"Why are you still working on that?"

Tony didn't bother looking up from the section of the suit he was fiddling with as Yinsen joined him at the makeshift worktable they had set up against one wall of the cave. Various tools were scattered across its surface-- all within easy reach-- as well as several sheets of tissue paper, a beat up laptop, and a backgammon board that was waiting for someone to make a move.

"Since I trashed the suit on my less than graceful landing," Tony said, "I thought I'd make a few improvements." He set the piece aside and sketched in a revision on one of the sheets of tissue paper. "Need to figure out how to get the plates to overlap better without adding any extra weight. Getting shot is not an experience I care to repeat. "

"But why bother?" Yinsen asked.

Surprised by the question, Tony glanced up. He found Yinsen leaning against the board holding the beat up remains of the original suit. Yinsen crossed his arms and the lenses of his glasses flashed when they reflected the slowly rotating 3-d graphic of the revised suit design that floated above the work table.

Distracted by the flash, Tony answered, "Because I want the next one to be better."

"For what purpose? You have already escaped; why do you need another one?"

Tony paused before answering. For some reason he had expected Yinsen to be more supportive than this. "I thought you were going to see your family?" Tony's voice trailing off when he decided halfway through the question that he'd rather not know the answer to it.

"I already have," Yinsen answered calmly. He glanced around the cave. "I had hoped you would have done the same by now."

Tony turned away, hunching slightly as he adjusted a piece of the arm assembly he had picked up. "No one to go back to. I think I mentioned that."

"You did. I just choose not believe it. Is there no one you wish to see again?"

_Considering Pepper and Rhodey are going to chew me out for getting myself lost, probably not. _A memory of Rhodey asking about the fun-vee wandered across his mind's eye. Tony frowned as he tried to remember when that had happened. Instead of figuring that out, he was hit by the memories of the attack on the convoy-- of the kids that had been with him, and how each of them had died trying to protect him. He then remembered what happened to Yinsen.

Tony froze with the realization that they had all died protecting him, and that they had all been killed by weapons made by his company, weapons he had designed and approved. Weapons that were supposed to protect people like them.

Tony stared at the holographic suit floating over the table.

"Why did you come back here, Stark?"

Instead of answering that, Tony stated, "The world has changed."

He could see Yinsen shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. "The world is the same as it has always been," Yinsen said gently. "It is simply your view of it that has changed."

Tony cautiously leaned back in his chair and turned to face Yinsen. "This is a dream," he said.

"Possibly. Or perhaps you are dead. It would explain why you and I are talking."

"I don't understand."

"I know." Yinsen tilted his head, the 3-d schematics making the lenses flash again. The flash suddenly exploded outward, filling Tony's vision. A roaring sound filled his ears as he struggled; his movements restricted by the dead weight of the suit as the ground came rushing up at him.

A slow steady beep broke through the roaring, a sound both distracting familiar and oddly reassuring as Tony continued to fight against the weight of the suit on his shoulders and chest. It felt as if the suit were trying to push him faster towards the ground.

"Tony?"

He twisted his body, startled by the sound of Rhodey's voice, but before he could figure out where the voice was coming from, his right shoulder burst into a fiery ball of pain.

"Tony! "

_Shit! _

Nurse! Tony! Wake up! Tony!"

Tony's eyes snapped open. The shift between being trapped in the suit to Rhodey right in his face-- wide-eyed and concerned-- locked his thoughts for a moment and he struggled to figure out what the hell was going on. As he gasped for breath and tried to kick start his brain, there was a movement to his left. A man in a white lab coat with a nametag clipped to the pocket was reaching for something just beyond his field of vision.

The beeping sound had accelerated. Tony realized with a start that the sound was coming from a heart monitor, and it was his own heartbeat he was listening to. Once that thought occurred to him, the sequence of events that had brought him here arranged themselves into their proper order.

The beat slowed as he got his bearings and the pain in his shoulder began to ease.

"Tony?"

He refocused on Rhodey, who was still right in his face. He was also firmly holding him down. "Okay," Tony gasped. "If you want a kiss, you'll have to buy me a drink first."

The look on Rhodey's face went from concerned to pissed-off annoyance in record time.

Rhodey took a deep breath then forced it out past clenched teeth. "You all right buddy?" he asked in a tone that sounded more like he was saying _you're a goddamn idiot._

"Yeah I'm fine." Tony tried to say that with a straight face, but ended up grimacing instead as various aches and pains added themselves to the one in his shoulder. "Okay, fine being a relative term here."

"No kidding." Rhodey let go and scrubbed his face before slumping against the edge of the bed. After the doctor asked a few questions, checked the monitors and the IV, and left the room, Rhodey nodded towards Tony's chest. "See you've been comparing notes with the Energizer Bunny," he said.

Tony looked down at the Arc Reactor. Between all the wires and tubes stuck to him, he looked a bit like Frankenstein's monster waiting for the lightening to hit. "Yeah. I was a little disappointed that he didn't bring me any chocolate though."

"That's the Easter Bunny, Tony."

"I knew that."

As he paused to take a breath-- god, he was tired-- Tony realized he had grabbed Rhodey's hand at some point and was gripping it tightly enough for it to hurt. Rhodey hadn't made a sound. Tony decided he was too tired to think about why he was letting him do that to him.

"So, how long am I going to be stuck here?"

Rhodey shrugged. "We'll leave as soon as you can walk out of here."

He liked the sounds of that. Nodding, he let go of Rhodey's hand and began yanking the EKG leads off his chest. "Great! I am out of here." He started to pushed himself upright, only to have Rhodey push him back down.

Rhodey rolled his eyes, and then explained slowly, emphasizing every word, "Let me rephrase that. We'll leave as soon as the docs say you can walk out of here."

Tony stared at him. "That could take hours!"

"Well then, I suggest you make yourself comfortable."

* * *

In the end, it took more than a few hours. Tony attempted to argue with Rhodey, but all Rhodey had to do was wait him out. Within a few minutes, Tony's body rebelled and, without asking Tony's opinion on the matter, decided sleep was its best option.

He was pretty sure Rhodey was smirking at him as he closed his eyes and tumbled back into unconsciousness.

The next time he woke, he found himself alone in the room. When he tired to shift into a more comfortable position, he discovered his right shoulder was tightly bandaged, probably to minimize movement. That was going to be a problem. He needed to organize a few ideas floating around in his head, but since he didn't have Jarvis to record those thoughts, he was going to have to do it the old fashion way.

He spotted Rhodey talking to someone in the hallway and was about to yell for a laptop or paper and pencil, when he noticed Rhodey's stance. It was stiff, not parade ground stiff but stiff in the way he got when he was angry and had nothing to lash out at. Tony was quite familiar with that particular stance.

Rhodey glanced into the room and met his gaze and then frowned and looked away, a pained look crossing his features. He said a few words to the man and stood in the hallway alone for a few moments after the man had gone before rejoining Tony, closing the door as he stepped into the room.

Tony studied the barely concealed mixture of disappointment and anger on Rhodey's face and felt a dull impotent rage fill him. "They didn't they get the bastards, did they?"

Rhodey sighed and shook his head. "No. There wasn't much left when they got there. Only a few bodies and a pile of slag."

Tony's chest clenched painfully at the word bodies. "Was there a civilian among them?"

Rhodey gave him a thoughtful look. "There was a guy just inside the cave that wasn't dressed like the others. They said he had taken a few rounds to the chest."

"Yinsen." Tony swallowed. "His name is Yinsen. He's the one who saved my life." He glanced down at the Arc Reactor.

"We'll notify his family…"

"Won't have to." Tony met Rhodey's gaze. "He's already with them."

Rhodey understood. "I'll take care of it."

As Rhodey turned away, Tony suddenly asked, "How many times have you had to do this?"

Rhodey didn't bother asking what he meant. Looking over his shoulder, he answered, "First time was already one too many."

Tony thought about that for a long time after Rhodey left the room.

* * *

"I'm not getting in that thing." He knew Rhodey had somehow managed to convince the doctors to check him out against their professional judgment, and he was grateful for that, but Tony wasn't happy with the concessions he was being forced to make. The fact that his right arm was securely strapped against his body to keep it from moving, throwing his balance off, wasn't helping his mood any.

"Yes you are." Rhodey was clearly grinding his teeth together as he gripped the handles of the wheelchair.

"No way."

"It's not up for negotiation, Tony." When Tony opened his mouth again, Rhodey snapped, "It's this or you stay here for another week."

Tony clamped down on his rising irritation and he was annoyed by the fact sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed had left him utterly exhausted. There were serious doubts going through his head right now as to whether he was going to be able to even make it to the chair, let alone to the plane, without falling flat on his face.

Locking the wheels in place, Rhodey moved to stand beside him. Tony stared at the wheelchair in disgust as Rhodey crossed his arms and leaned against the bed. "You really think you can walk to the plane in the condition you're in?"

Tony didn't move his head. "Bastard."

"Yep." He held out an arm. "Whenever you're ready, sour-puss."

A snort of laughter broke through Tony's irritation and he glanced up at Rhodey. Rhodey looked back calmly, no hint of pity or sympathy on his face. Tony sighed and grabbed the offered arm, sliding awkwardly off the bed. He was thankful he had changed into some pants. He could just imagine how much he would have exposed with that move wearing the stupid hospital gown he had woken up in this morning.

He waited for the nurse to transfer the IV bag attached to the tube that was still stuck in him to the tree on the wheelchair then, with a little maneuvering and a lot of Rhodey practically carrying him, Tony was finally able to drop into the wheelchair instead of on the floor.

Once he had his breath back, Tony asked, "So what's the game plan? Frankfurt then a straight shot to Edwards?"

"Nope. Dubai first, then Edwards."

Tony leaned back to look up as Rhodey pushed him out to the waiting handicap van. "Dubai?"

"Yep." Rhodey stepped back to let the attendants positioned the chair onto the lift and move it up into the van.

When Rhodey climbed in after the wheelchair was locked in place and after the attendants had shut the door, Tony said, "If you want to use my pool all you have to do is ask. I'll give you the key codes to the villa."

Rhodey gave him an exasperated look. "You really want Pepper seeing you looking like this?"

"I've looked worse after three days in my workroom."

"Okay then, do you want the press to see you looking like this?" Rhodey asked his tone relentless. "You know they'll be waiting for you."

The thought of suddenly being forced to run the gauntlet in a wheelchair, lights flashing and microphones being shoved at his face sent a shudder of revulsion through Tony.

He looked out the window as they pulled away from the medical center.

Rhodey leaned towards him and said softly, "Look. Tony. You just spend three months in a cave fighting for your life. You need time to get acclimated before you start dealing with the press or the stockholders."

Letting a burst of bitterness get the better of him, Tony said, "And you want a chance to make sure I haven't gone off the deep end."

"Exactly." Surprised Rhodey had actually admitted to that, Tony turned to look back at him. Rhodey shrugged. "I've seen men crack under less pressure than what you've just gone through. Figured spending some time in familiar surroundings might help you get your head in the right place."

Tony considered that, but immediately saw a flaw in Rhodey's plan. "Landing a C-17 at Dubai International's going to draw a lot of attention. Kinda defeats the purpose of this whole little side trip"

"We'll be landing at Al Dhafra then take a shuttle over to Dubai."

"Okay yeah, that makes more sense." Tony closed his eyes and let his head fall back. He wasn't aware of the fact he had fallen asleep until Rhodey woke him as they were coming in to land at Al Dhafra Air Base.


	3. Chapter 3

"Tell me exactly what happened when the convoy got hit."

Rhodey glanced over at Tony as their limo headed west on Sheik Rashid Road. Eventually they would turn to the southwest, following the Arabian coastline until they reached the villa Tony was using until the one on The Palm Jumeirah was completed.

Skyscrapers, rising up on both sides of the road, glittered in the evening light, and the traffic, though heavy, moved along at a steady clip as they skirted the edge of downtown Dubai. Everything looked clean and sharp and vibrated with the energy of a modern growing twenty-first century metropolis. Carefully structured landscapes, filled with lush green palm trees and sparkling pools of water, alternated with sandy desert patches of undeveloped land, architecture that raised the bar on what was possible, and massive new construction projects. Tony stared out at it all; a dark shape slumped against the window, his head pressed against the tinted glass.

Sighing to himself, Rhodey considered how to answer Tony. He had hoped Tony would fall back to sleep once they had gotten him in the limo; Rhodey knew the transfer from the C-17 to the Gulfstream and the short flight to Dubai had left Tony completely drained. However, Rhodey recognized the distracted look on Tony's face, and knew what it meant. Something was running through his head and, exhausted or not, Tony was going to worry at whatever it was that had his attention until his body simply shut down on him.

"Not much to tell," Rhodey finally said. "We got hit, they grabbed you and then it was over."

"A little more detail would be nice."

"Hey, I'm the wrong person to ask. After they hit the first Humvee, a few of us tried to get to your vehicle, but all the gunfire kept us pinned down. And then something blew up and the next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital a few hours after the fact."

"You probably got hit by the same RPG that got me," Tony said. "Sorry about that."

"Wasn't your fault. You didn't shoot it."

"Maybe not." Tony grimaced. "But I'm the one who made it."

Frowning, Rhodey wondered where the hell that comment had come from.

After repeatedly reviewing the attack over the last three months, Rhodey still found one thing that bothered him about how the whole scenario had played out. On the surface, the attack had the appearance of a straightforward snatch and grab, but the way the insurgents had executed that attack…

"What is it?"

Surprised he had drifted enough that he hadn't noticed Tony watching him; Rhodey shook his head and said impulsively, "I don't think they were after you."

"What?"

Rhodey stared at the back of the passenger seat as he organized his thoughts. "They couldn't have known which vehicle you were in-- for all they knew, you could have been in the lead Humvee simply because it had the best view."

"Someone at the demonstration could have radioed ahead."

"Doubt it."

"Okay, you shot that down quick. Any particular reason why?"

"It doesn't fit," Rhodey said. "Even if someone had radioed ahead, you don't shoot rocket propelled grenades at the person you're trying to kidnap-- for obvious reasons." He waved a hand at the Arc Reactor hidden under Tony's t-shirt. "And they weren't exactly being selective about where or what they were shooting at." Rhodey shook his head again. "No, I think it was just a random attack that got lucky. Someone must have spotted you after you got out of the Humvee and decided then and there to grab you. Not many people ride around Afghanistan in a military convoy wearing a business suit and drinking scotch."

"Yeah well, I've never looked good in desert brown," Tony said as he turned away.

* * *

It took more than thirty minutes to reach the property Tony had purchased off the One and Only Royal Mirage resort. The three mansions that sat on the property, enclosed within a tastefully designed privacy wall, were surprisingly secluded and Rhodey had briefly entertained the idea of flying Tony in on a helicopter to avoid moving him around too much. He ended up tossing the idea when he thought about all the vacationing tourists nearby, and the fact that CNN, Reuters and the BBC all had offices in Dubai's Media City a few miles west of the resort. The press might not be monitoring the place now, but a helicopter flying in would certainly have made them curious enough to start.

As soon as they stopped moving, Rhodey slipped out and walked around to the back of the limo. There was a solid _chuck _as the lock released, and then the trunk popped open on its own. Rhodey reached in, grabbing the collapsed wheelchair tucked inside and pulled it out. He quickly snapped it back into its proper shape.

Tony was leaning out of the limo and glaring at the wheelchair as Rhodey rolled it his way.

"Okay, we're done with the chair," he said.

Rhodey shook his head. "Nope, you're not done with the chair until I say you're done with the chair." Before Tony could offer up a protest, Rhodey pointed out, "Hey, I'll tie you to the thing if I have to."

That earned him a reluctant smile. "Oh, didn't realize you were into the bondage thing. I'll have to keep that in mind the next time I invite you over." As Rhodey considered an appropriate response to that, Tony reached up and grabbed the top of the limo's door for balance as he climbed to his feet. With a little guidance from Rhodey, he turned and sat in the chair.

Once in place Tony leaned back and paused a moment to catch his breath before pointing towards the door and announcing, "Home, James." He looked up at Rhodey and grinned. With the straggly beard and the dark circles around his eyes, Tony's grin ended up looking a bit demented.

Rhodey gave him a suspicious look. "You're going to be a pain the whole time we're here, aren't you?"

"As long as you're forcing me to sit in this chair I am."

Rhodey rolled his eyes and started pushing the wheelchair towards the mansion. "Great. Thanks for the warning."

As they crossed over the threshold, the interior lights suddenly increased in brightness and a voice said, "Welcome back, sir."

"Hey, Jarvis! How've you been?"

"I have found myself quite bored without you here to constantly harass me," the house AI answered evenly.

"I don't harass you."

"Perhaps pester would be a better definition."

"Yeah, but you like it when I pester you."

"It's what I live for sir."

Tony laughed. It had been far too long since Rhodey had heard that sound and he felt a weight begin to lift off his shoulders-- until Tony snapped his fingers in front of his face and said, "Hey, you're going the wrong way. Kitchen's over there."

"This your subtle way of telling me you're hungry?"

"No, I thought we might have a deep philosophical discussion about the new Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue while we polished the silverware."

Rhodey was beginning to wonder why he thought stopping here was a good idea.

* * *

Leaning back in the chair that was on the balcony outside of his room, Rhodey took a deep breath and closed his eyes, enjoying the early morning silence. He hadn't slept much, having spent most of the night checking up on Tony to make sure the man was getting the sleep he needed instead of putzing around in his workroom.

At least that was the reason he kept telling himself.

Tony had caught him once looking in. He had stared at Rhodey then shook his head and smiled as he made a show of pulling the sheet up to his chin and closing his eyes while saying firmly, "Good night, Rhodey."

They both knew the real reason he kept looking in on Tony was simply to reassure himself that Tony was actually there and that this wasn't all a dream.

Eventually-- after making Jarvis promise to call him if there were any problems-- Rhodey had called it a night. Still, he had only managed to get in two hours of sleep before getting back up to check on Tony again. When he found him still asleep, Rhodey had wandered down to the kitchen to grab some coffee out of the pot Jarvis was brewing for him.

As he was savoring his second cup of the morning, Jarvis said, "Colonel Rhodes?"

Rhodey immediately set the coffee down. "Is something wrong Jarvis?"

"Nothing serious, but you may wish to check the master bathroom."

_Damn._ "The bathroom?" Rhodey quickly headed back into the house. "What happened? Did Tony slip or something?"

"No, but I believe he is in need of some assistance."

Rhodey stopped. "Assistance doing what?" he asked carefully, almost afraid to know what Tony might need assistance with.

"As far as I can tell, washing his hair."

Rhodey groaned and rubbed his forehead. "He tried to wash his hair? Using both hands I take it?"

"Yes. It seemed to cause him… some distress." Rhodey was sure the slight pause he heard in that sentence was Jarvis searching for a term a little less dramatic than screaming in agony.

When he reached the door to the master bath, Rhodey knocked then called out, "Tony? You all aright buddy?"

As he opened the door a crack, he heard Tony mutter "Tattletale."

Jarvis was clearly unsympathetic to whatever plight Tony was in. "You have not moved from that spot in the last ten point four minutes," the AI said. "That in itself is not unusual. However, since this lack of movement was preceded by an impressive number of swearwords, I thought it best to inform Colonel Rhodes of your current situation."

There was an annoyed huff, then silence.

"Tony?"

"Come on in," Tony said. "Not like you haven't seen me naked before."

Cautiously stepping into the bathroom, half-expecting to find Tony sprawled out on the floor, he instead found him sitting on a bench inside a shower that looked big enough to hold four people. He had somehow managed to throw a robe around himself, and he looked relatively dry except for his hair-- which still had white streaks of lathered up shampoo stuck between the dark strands-- and his face-- which was shiny from a mixture of water and sweat.

Rhodey walked over to Tony. Tony was doubled over on the bench and holding his right arm tight against his body. Crossing his arms, Rhodey asked, "You tried washing your hair?"

Tony squinted up at him, dark eyes narrow and defensive. "Gee, I wonder what gave me away?"

"You tried washing your hair with both hands less than two days after being shot in the shoulder?"

"Okay, give me a break here; this is the first time I've had to deal with this kind of a problem."

"You knew better!"

"Well clearly I didn't or you wouldn't be in here right now," Tony snapped, clearly irritated and frustrated with his condition.

Rhodey stared at him and then, unable to help himself, he started chuckling. As he sat down on the bench, Tony glared at him.

"Well, I'm glad my pain amuses you."

"Sorry, but you look like a drowned puppy right now." Rhodey waited until Tony had relaxed a little before asking, "Think you can you lie down on this?" He indicated the bench they were sitting on.

Puzzled, Tony said, "Shouldn't be a problem. Gonna to make it worth my while?"

"Yeah, like you're in any condition for me to make it worth your while. Figure it'll be easier to wash out the shampoo if you're lying down; that way your shoulder won't get any wetter than it is right now. Then I'm going to change those dressings and make sure you're using that sling you're supposed to be wearing; you know, the one that's supposed to remind you not to do stupid things like this." He pushed off the bench and rose to his feet. "Any questions?"

"Nope."

Glancing around at the multiple showerheads, Rhodey asked, "Is one of these a handheld?"

"Um, that one." Tony gestured to the showerhead above his head. "It has the deep massage settings. Kind of why the bench is here. You can have a lot of fun with that one."

"I'm sure you can."

After helping Tony lie down, supporting his head with one hand as it hung over the edge of the bench, Rhodey pulled down the showerhead with the other and switched it on.

As he was rinsing the shampoo out, keeping the water pressure low and holding the showerhead close to Tony's scalp to keep the spray to a minimum, Tony asked him, "Was the attack on the convoy the first time you've heard of Stark tech being used by the other side?"

Rhodey shrugged. "Yes. I would have told you if I'd heard about something like that happening. And if we didn't know about it, I'm sure the press would have been happy to enlighten the both of us. It was bound to happen sooner or later though."

Tony frowned at him. "Was it?"

"Tony, you of all people know that you can get your hands on just about anything, if you've got the money to spend."

"I know but…" Tony shook his head, and started to wave his arms in the air as if to emphasize whatever he was about to say; but was forced to stop moving as a moan of pain slipped out of him. Tony closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, the pattern of his breathing going from relatively even to short quick pants. Rhodey turned off the water and waited for Tony's breathing to even out.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, just help me sit up."

Rhodey braced Tony until he was upright, and then gently rested his hand reassuringly on the top of Tony's head before stepping out of the shower to grab a towel.

"Were you done?" Tony asked, keeping his head bowed so Rhodey could dry his hair.

"Yeah, I'm done."

When he finished, he left the towel draped over Tony's shoulders and sat back down on the bench. Tony took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. "How did Obie react when you told him about what happened?" he asked quietly without opening his eyes.

Rhodey frowned, He was beginning to figure out what it was Tony was obsessing over. That wasn't a surprise-- almost being killed by your own weapons would make anyone go through a period of reflection. The problem was, Rhodey couldn't tell what direction those reflections were taking Tony; and that was starting to worry him.

"He was not happy," Rhodey said carefully. That had been one call Rhodey had not wanted to make. Having to tell Obadiah Stane-- chief financial officer of Stark Industries and Tony's mentor in the fine art of running a multi-billion dollar business-- that he had not only lost the CEO of Stark Industries, but had lost him to insurgents using weapons manufactured by the same company, ranked right up there as the second worst moment in Rhodey's life.

Of course, losing Tony had been THE worst moment of his life.

Tony opened his eyes and gave Rhodey a weary amused look. "I'm guessing that's an understatement?"

Rhodey nodded. "There was a lot of yelling involved."

"At you?"

"Actually no. The conversation ran mostly along the lines of 'how the hell did they get our weapons', and 'what the hell did they have?' He was out in the field the next day trying to help us figure out what equipment the insurgents had used and which shipments they might have come from in the hope that it would lead us to your location."

"Obviously it didn't."

"No. As far as Obadiah's been able to tell, no shipments have gone missing. He thinks it might have happened sometime after delivery; he just hasn't been able to pinpoint which shipments went astray."

"Yeah, that's going to take forever without the serial numbers to go off of." Tony stared up at the ceiling. "I'll give him a call this afternoon."

"Uh, no you won't."

Tony blinked. "I won't?"

"Nope. Jarvis has strict orders not to let you talk to anyone right now." When Tony began to frown, Rhodey added, "You're supposed to be resting, Tony."

"I am resting. And, unless you've forgotten, I'm the one who build Jarvis. He'll do whatever I tell him to do."

"Not at this moment, sir," the AI said.

"Really? And why is that?"

"Because you also gave Miss Potts command override authority in the event you were ever incapacitated. You are currently incapacitated."

"Obadiah also said to tell you he won't accept any of your calls if you somehow manage to swipe my cell phone between now and the time we get home," Rhodey said.

"So in other words, you're all ganging up on me."

Rhodey smiled. "Yep."

Tony stared at him a minute, then shook his head and smiled back. "Okay, fine, you win. I know when I've been outmaneuvered." He scratched his beard, and then gave Rhodey a thoughtful look. "Hey, think you can give me a shave while you're here? This is beginning to itch."

"No. I don't think me having a razor blade anywhere near your throat right now is a good idea."

Tony chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, probably not."

Rhodey patted Tony's knee and stood up. "Is there someone in Dubai I can call?"

"Yeah. Just give Pepper a ring, she'll have my barber's number somewhere on file."

"Right. Just let me know when you're ready for me to change those dressings."

"I will be glad to inform you when Mr. Stark is ready, Colonel," Jarvis said before Tony could open his mouth. The AI sounded a bit smug to Rhodey's ears.

"Thanks Jarvis." Glancing back as he stepped out of the bathroom, Rhodey was just in time to catch Tony shooting a glare at the ceiling.

"Remind me to reprogram you when we get back to Malibu, Jarvis."

"Your wish is my command, sir."


	4. Chapter 4

Tony absently tapped the tablet pen against the edge of the worktable as he stared at the rendering of the Mark I suit displayed on the main screen. The rendering wasn't quite right-- drawing with his left hand instead of his right proved more difficult than he had expected-- but all the information he needed was there, and it would be easy enough to clean up the mistakes once he got home.

As he settled back in his chair, he tugged the front of his t-shirt down for the umpteenth time. He briefly considered getting up to find a pair of scissors so he could cut a hole in the middle of the t-shirt to keep it from hiking up on the top edge of the Arc Reactor. However that would require that he actually move, and he wasn't sure if he could do that just yet.

After the shower-- as painful as that experience had been-- and a quick visit from the barber, Tony was feeling more like his old self; but he had yet to regain his strength. He would have thought the workout he'd gotten forging the suit would have prevented him from crashing this hard physically, but clearly, he had pushed himself well beyond what his body could safely handle in those last twenty-four hours.

Being shot and falling out of the sky probably hadn't helped matters any.

He saved the rendering to his private server, and then opened the Stark Industries database to access the Arc Reactor files. As much of a breakthrough as the version he had built was, Tony knew there was a lot more he could do once he had the proper equipment.

It wasn't until something landed on the table next to his elbow that he realized he had been staring at his father's notes on the Reactor for several minutes without actually seeing them. Tony focused on the plate of food for a few seconds before turning around to look up at Rhodey.

"Lunchtime already?" he asked.

"Actually, it dinnertime."

Tony glanced at the clock at the bottom of the screen, and shook his head. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Rhodey pulled up a chair to sit on as he looked over the files crowding the screen. "Plan on updating the Reactor?"

"Uh huh." Tony scooped up a mouthful of food and shoved it in his mouth without looking. "Surprised you didn't come down earlier," he said as he scraped up another forkful.

"I thought about it, but as long as you were down here at the computer, I didn't have to worry about you doing something stupid."

Tony gave him a shrewd look. "And you had Jarvis to spy on me in case I did do something stupid?"

"Yep."

As he ate, Tony watched Rhodey's gaze wander around the workroom; and when Rhodey suddenly yawned, Tony smiled and pointed his fork at him. "You fell asleep, didn't you?"

A sheepish look crossed Rhodey's face and then he smiled back. "Yeah, I did."

Tony chuckled as he turned his attention back to the computer. He suspected Rhodey's hovering would become seriously annoying in a day or two, but for the moment, he was willing to tolerate it. He felt safe and relaxed with Rhodey at his back; a nice change from the stress of waiting for the bad guys to put him up against the wall to shoot him.

"You going to be down here much longer?" Rhodey asked.

"Probably not. Just need to save my notes and shut these files down, then I think I'll turn in." He glanced back at Rhodey. "By the way, how long were you planning on us hanging out here?"

Rhodey shrugged. "I don't know. How long do you think you'll need?"

A little surprised to have the question turned back at him, Tony considered his answer. "Hmm, two days, maybe three at the most. I'd like to be able to move my arm a bit more before we head back." He glanced down. "Oh, and could you have Pepper arrange to have a tailor stop by? I seriously doubt I'm going to fit into any of my suits right now."

Nodding in agreement, Rhodey said, "As long as you don't overdo it that should work out okay. I'm guessing you learned your lesson this morning, though."

"Yeah," Tony said, "I got it."

Standing, Rhodey picked up the plate. Tony blinked; surprised to see the plate was empty. He couldn't remember what it was he had just eaten, let alone the fact he had finished it.

As he started organizing the files he wanted to save, Tony asked, "Oh, hey, before you leave, mind grabbing me a pair of scissors?"

"What for?"

"Need to cut a hole in my shirt."

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. "Planning on starting a new trend?"

Tony glanced down at the glow of the Arc Reactor as Rhodey started opening drawers. "Yeah, I'm sure everybody's going to want one of these."

"Hey, you never know."

Tony laughed. "True. If I make this hip enough, I could make a fortune."

"Stark Industries taking over the Paris runways. That's kind of a scary thought," Rhodey said as he handed Tony a pair of scissors.

"I'd have to change the company name to something with a little more pizzazz-- but hey, we could probably still use the "Tomorrow Today" slogan." Tony carefully held the t-shirt away from his body with his right hand, making sure not to move his shoulder as he did, and was about to make a cut when he realized he had a problem.

It wasn't until Tony gave him a frustrated look that Rhodey took pity on him and pulled the scissors out of his hand. Rhodey almost managed to control the smirk on his face as he gripped a fistful of Tony's t-shirt and started to cut. "Maybe you should look into making ambidextrous scissors," he said.

"I'm seriously considering it right now."

When he was done, Rhodey set the scissors on the worktable and asked, "Need anything else?"

"Nope, I'm set."

"Okay. I'll be back in twenty."

Tony nodded as he started shutting the files down. When he was sure Rhodey was gone, he said, "Jarvis?"

"Yes sir?"

"Care to tell me why you didn't wake Colonel Rhodes up for lunch?"

"You were showing no signs of hunger or discomfort, and Colonel Rhodes seemed to be in need of sleep."

"Did he manage to get any sleep last night?"

"Yes. Two hours, twelve minutes and fifty-two seconds."

Tony smiled._ Well, at least someone's keeping an eye on Rhodey._ "Thanks Jarvis."

"You're welcome, sir."

* * *

As soon as Tony fell asleep, he was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming, and was a little afraid of where this dream would go, but wasn't about to do anything that might break the illusion-- even if it meant having to answer the same question over and over again.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

Glancing over the Flathead V8 engine that belonged to the 1932 Ford Roadster he and his father were rebuilding, Tony smiled and said reassuringly for the third time, "Look mom, I'm fine, it's no big deal." He rapped his knuckles against the front of the Arc Reactor imbedded in his chest. "This thing's practically invincible."

Maria Stark gave her son a clearly skeptical look. "I'm aware of that-- I helped your father design the original, remember? I also know that, although that thing may be invincible, you are not, Anthony Edwards Stark. I suggest you keep that in mind the next time you decide to do something stupid."

Tony nodded, but was unable to wipe the smile off his face. "Yes mom."

Maria shook her head in exasperation before turning towards her husband. "Do you need anything, Howard?" she asked.

Howard Stark looked up over the edge of the engine and blinked as if surprised to find there was someone else in the room. Tony and his mother shared an amused knowing look; Howard Stark had a tendency to ignore everything that existed beyond whatever it was he was working on.

"No, I'm fine. Thanks Maria."

"Well, if you need anything let me know." Maria started up the stairs leading into the house, and then paused. "Oh, and please try to remember to wash the grease and oil off the bottom of your shoes before coming up. It took forever to clean up the footprints you two left on the living room carpet the last time you were working on that thing."

"Yes dear," Howard responded absently. Tony stayed silent, his heart clenching painfully at his mother's gentle reprimand. The tracks she was referring to had remained in the carpet until the day he had put the Long Island home up for sale a few months after his parent's death. He had been working on the car with his father the night before heading out to visit Rhodey. It was the first Christmas Rhodey would be spending away from home, and Tony had decided to drop by to say hi while he was checking out how well the new missile guidance systems he had designed were performing in the field.

By the time Tony had left his parent's house that night-- unknowingly adding his footprints to his fathers across the living room carpet on his way out-- his mother had already gone to bed and his father was on the phone with someone from the west coast office. No one had bothered to say goodbye; there had been no reason to. In a week, Tony was due back to spend the rest of the holidays with his family.

Less than twenty four hours late, Rhodey had pulled him out of a consultation to tell him his parents were dead, killed in a car crash on their way home from a stockholders meeting in Manhattan.

'Tony!"

Startled by the sound of his father's voice, Tony pulled his attention away from the past and back to his father. Howard Stark gave his son a curious look and held out his hand. "Need the socket wrench," he said.

"Oh, right, sorry." Tony handed him the wrench and watched as his father fiddled with the engine.

"Decompression in cylinder three appears to be low, Mr. Stark," Jarvis suddenly said.

Tony's father nodded and said, without looking away from the engines, "Any suggestions Jarvis?"

Tony felt another sharp pang as he listened to his father and Jarvis go back and forth over ways to improve the engine's performance. Jarvis had been build years after his father's death. Tony had always regretted the fact the two would never meet.

"You've got your mother a little worried," Howard said after settling on a plan with Jarvis on how to fix the decompression problem. He held his hand out for the diagnostic scanner.

"Well, the next time mom suggests I do a weapons test in Vegas instead of in the middle of a hot zone, I'll be paying more attention to what she says." Tony handed his father the scanner and then frowned when he remembered Rhodey had been the one who suggested they test the Jericho missiles outside Vegas instead of smack in the middle of Afghanistan.

"Well, the only way you could truly test the Jericho was under real field conditions."

"That's what I told him," Tony said. As he continued to watch his father, a question popped into Tony's head, a seemingly important question.

"Dad?" he said hesitantly. "Did you ever wonder if what you were doing was the right--?"

His father cut him off. "How is Rhodey doing?"

Tony lost track of his question. He tried to figure out why he needed to ask the question, but when he couldn't, he decided it wasn't as important as he thought.

Leaning against the Roadster, Tony chuckled and then said, "Uh, right now he's taking great joy in terrorizing the next generation of Air Force pilots."

"Ah. And when were you going to tell him about the suit?"

"Tell him about the suit?" Tony asked, perplexed by the question, then perplexed by the fact that he had not told Rhodey about the suit he had made.

His father stared at him then pointed at something.

"The suit. When are you going to tell him about the suit?"

Turning around, Tony found a silver, streamlined version of the Mark I standing in the middle of his father's workroom. He slowly stood and walked towards it.

Before he could get close, the suit's eyes began to glow and it raised one hand as if to stop him. Tony stared at the dark circle imbedded in the palm of the glove, then his thoughts skittering excitedly in all directions as he considered the implications regarding the placement of that repulsor unit.

"Howard! Phone!"

"Be right up Maria!"

He heard the words, and knew what they meant, but the suit held him in place. By the time he could tear his attention away from it, he knew it was far too late.

Tony looked across the now darkened workroom. "Dad?" Taking a step forward, he raised his voice and shouted, "Mom? Dad?" When there was no answer, Tony ran up the stair.

At the top of the stairs, he skidded to a stop. Panting, trying to control the panic clutching at his throat, Tony stared at the single trail of footprints running across the pristine carpet. The footprints abruptly stopped in the middle of the room-- as if the person who made them had simply disappeared.

"Dad?" He took a few hesitant steps forward.

"Tony?"

Jumping slightly at the sound of his name, Tony whirled around and found Obadiah Stane standing at the top of the stairs watching him.

"Are you all right, Tony?" Obadiah asked gently.

Nodding, Tony took a deep shaky breath and said, "I'm all right."

Obadiah joined him in the living room and wrapped an arm protectively around Tony's shoulders. "Sure you are kid," he said, easily seeing through the lie; and Tony found some small comfort in that. As his father's best friend and business partner gave him a reassuring hug, the lights in the living room suddenly came on.

Tony stared at the series of black and white photos that appeared on one wall; photos of the weapons he had designed, and a few that were still in the back of his mind waiting to be born. Another wall had shelves holding a collection of awards both he and his father had won over the years.

"So, you're really going to sell the house after all, huh?" Obadiah asked as he took a step back.

"Yes," Tony answered, swaying slightly as the support Obadiah offered disappeared.

"Sure you want to leave all this behind?"

"Yes." Tony's voice was firm as he stared at his father's footprints, and he knew it was more than the house he was leaving behind with that one simple answer.

He wasn't sure why he was crying as he said it though.


	5. Chapter 5

"Colonel Rhodes?"

"I heard it." Rhodey tossed the book he had been reading at the side table and ran for Tony's bedroom. The shout had come as a shock, cutting through the silence like an alarm, but for the life of him Rhodey couldn't figure out why Tony would be shouting for his dad.

Reaching the master bedroom, Rhodey shoved the door open then stopped. As the adrenalin pounding through him made his body tremble with the need to move, Rhodey stood frozen in place as he stared in confusion at Tony. Tony was lying on his back fast asleep, his right arm resting across his stomach and the other thrown out across the bed, his left hand open and relaxed. The Arc Reactor glowed softly in the dark room, slowly rising and falling with each breath Tony took.

Rhodey could see, by the light emanating from the Reactor, the glitter of tears on Tony's face.

As he stood in the doorway and tried to make sense of what he was looking at, Rhodey saw Tony's left hand twitch and heard him suck in a breath. Tony held the breath for a moment too long and then suddenly he sat up, his eyes snapping open as he braced his hands against the bed to support his body. The movement startled Rhodey out of his paralysis and he took an involuntary step back, drawing Tony's gaze to him. Rhodey's heart was pounding as they stared at one another and his mind raced to figure out what he should do.

Before Rhodey could move, Tony's gaze turned inward. He grimaced then groaned as he fell back on the bed, cradling his right arm on top of his chest. As he fell back, the lights in the room switched on.

"Okay, you know what?" Tony grumbled irritably as he covered his eyes with his left hand. "It would be easier on the both of us if you'd just park yourself in here instead of having to come running every time you hear a noise, Rhodey."

Rhodey took a deep breath and tried to ignore his racing heartbeat-- and the impulse to shout 'what the hell, Tony'-- as he crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe. "Okay, that was more than just a noise," he managed to get out in a relatively calm tone of voice.

"What?" Tony lifted his head and gave him a look. "Uh, are you all right, Rhodey?"

"Do I look all right?"

A flash of amusement eased the pained look on Tony's face for a second as his head fell back on the pillow. "I think that's my line."

Shaking his head, Rhodey stepped into the room and dragged one of the chairs from the sitting area over to the bed. He watched Tony frown and wipe the tears off his face with the heel of his hand as he sat down.

"Shoulder hurting?" he asked.

"That's kind of a stupid question at the moment."

"Yeah well, still need to ask it."

Rhodey ignored the annoyed look he got and waited patiently for an answer. Tony muttered something under his breath and then gave in. "Outside of the railroad spike someone's trying to drive through it right now," he said, "everything is just peachy keen."

"Must be pretty bad if you're saying peachy keen."

A shadow of a smile tugged the corner of Tony's lips. "Yeah, I'd say that's a pretty accurate assessment." The smile slipped away and Tony sighed, staring at the ceiling as he pressed his lips together in a tight line. Something told Rhodey it wasn't pain causing that expression.

"Can't sleep?" Rhodey asked softly.

"I have a feeling I should be asking you that question; but then you'd have to tell me it's my fault you're awake and--" Tony shook his head, then admitted, much to Rhodey's surprise, "Falling asleep isn't the problem right now."

"What is the problem?"

Another sigh slipped out of Tony as he turned a weary gaze on Rhodey. "You're going to force me talk about this, aren't you?"

Rhodey was tempted to say no; as much as he wanted to know what had happened to Tony over the last few months, he was beginning to realize he was also afraid to find out how broken Tony might be. He knew it was in Tony's best interests that he talk things through though, and better him hearing it than Pepper.

"'Fraid so." Rhodey shrugged then prompted carefully, "You were yelling for your dad."

"Yeah. I…" Tony looked away. "I was dreaming about us working on the Roadster."

"Sounds like a nice dream."

"It was." A sad smile appeared. "Mom was there too." Tony's fingers brushed across the surface of the Arc Reactor. "She was chewing me out about putting myself in danger."

"That sounds like your mom." Rhodey waited a moment to see if Tony would say anything more. When he didn't, Rhodey asked, "What did your dad have to say about it?"

"He agreed with me that the only way to test the Jericho was out in the field."

"Did he say anything else?"

He could tell Tony was sidestepping the question when he asked, "Did you ever regret following in your father's footsteps Rhodey?"

Resisting the urge to get Tony back on track, Rhodey answered, "No. I'm doing what I've always wanted to do."

"Because it means you get to fly the fastest planes in the world?" A knowing grin brightened Tony's face.

Rhodey couldn't deny the truth of that statement. He smiled and nodded his head. "Yeah, that's definitely one of the reasons. I was hooked the first time dad took me up."

When Tony looked away and the grin slowly disappeared, Rhodey felt the need to ask, "Do you ever regret becoming CEO of Stark Industries?" He remembered many long conversations with Tony about him taking over his father's company in the years leading up to Tony's twenty-first birthday; but he couldn't remember Tony ever mentioning that he regretted that decision, only Tony's doubts about whether or not he would be able to live up to all the hype.

Since taking over Stark Industries, Tony Stark had lived up to the hype, and then some.

"I don't regret that."

Rhodey heard an unspoken 'but' in Tony's answer. "What then?"

Tony let out a frustrated breath and scrubbed his face. "I don't know," he snapped, then took a deep breath. "Sorry. I'm tired, just ignore me. I'm just rambling."

Rhodey sighed mentally. He could tell Tony was shutting down, both emotionally and physically, and he knew he'd get nothing more out of him tonight. It was also clear that Tony's mind was going into overdrive as it worked on whatever it was Tony was unwilling to discuss.

"Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, some painkillers would be good right now."

All the prescriptions the doctor had left for Tony were in the master bath and it only took Rhodey a moment to find the ones he needed. Picking up a glass of water and the appropriate pills, Rhodey headed back to the bed and handed them over. Tony raised an eyebrow when he noticed the sleeping pill Rhodey had added to the others but he downed all the pills and the water without question. Rhodey placed the empty cup on the nightstand and settled back in the chair.

Tony gave him a questioning look as he sat down. "You're not actually going to sit in that chair all night, are you?" he asked.

"Hey, you're the one who suggested it."

Closing his eyes, Tony chuckled. "True," he said, "but don't blame me in the morning if you can't move."

"Wouldn't think of it."

The lights dimmed as Tony closed his eyes. Rhodey stretched his legs out and let his head fall back to rest against the top of the chair. He had just closed his eyes when he heard Tony say, "Hey, Rhodey?"

Opening his eyes, Rhodey found Tony looking back at him, clearly fighting to keep his eyes open. "Yeah?" Rhodey said.

"Thanks for not giving up on me," Tony said softly.

Something tightened in Rhodey's chest, and he had to swallow once before he could respond lightly, "Yeah well, don't make me regret it."

"I don't think I can promise that."

The pressure in Rhodey's chest grew. "Go to sleep Tony," he whispered.

Tony sighed and stopped fighting the effects of the sleeping pill. He closed his eyes and said in a sleepy, childlike voice, "Okay."

Rhodey carefully controlled his breathing as he closed his own eyes. The last thing Tony needed to see was him fighting back a bout of unexpected tears.

* * *

Once he fell back to sleep, Tony remained quiet for the rest of the night. Rhodey stayed at his side, dozing off from time to time until the morning sunlight began filtering into the room. Figuring that Tony could take care of himself from this point on, Rhodey stood up and carefully turned his head from side to side to loosen up the stiff muscles in his neck. When he felt several other spots protest the movement, he considered grabbing some sleep in his own bed but decided he might as well stay awake until Tony woke up.

Heading back to his room, Rhodey changed into some swim trunks, figuring a nice long swim would help relieve the stiffness and give him a little boost of energy. After grabbing a towel, Rhodey headed out to the pool.

Dropping the towel on a bench Rhodey walked quickly to the edge and dove in. The water was comfortably warm, and Rhodey enjoyed the feel of his muscles stretching and contracting as he surfaced and began doing laps across the length of the pool.

As he was working through a return lap, instinct caused Rhodey to stop and glance up towards the villa. He was surprised to find Tony, fully dressed with his right arm in the sling, standing near the edge of the pool, staring down at the water with a thoughtful look on his face.

Rhodey watched Tony's eyes widened suddenly. There was a sharp intake of breath and then Tony was backing away from the edge of the pool until the back of his legs bumped into the bench. Tony sat down, staring blindly at the ground.

_Oh, shit_. Quickly swimming to the edge, Rhodey slowly pulled himself out of the pool, trying not to startle the man. However, by the time he was on his feet, Tony looked as if nothing had happened, and he simply watched Rhodey with a curious expression, raising an eyebrow in question when Rhodey stopped in front of him.

Shaking his head, Rhodey sat down beside Tony. "What was that?" he asked.

"What was what?" Rhodey narrowed his eyes and Tony turned away to look at the pool. "Oh, nothing."

"Didn't look like nothing."

Tony shrugged and said nonchalantly, "I was just remembering when Raza's goons dunked my head in a bucket of water a few times to help convince me to build them a Jericho missile." He looked back at Rhodey and added, almost in the same breath, "So what's for breakfast?"

Since he was still trying to process the first sentence, Rhodey failed completely to comprehend the second one.

"What?" he asked.

"Breakfast. I'm hungry."

Rhodey's mind scrambled to catch up to Tony. "You're hungry?"

"Yeah. Until I can figure out how to get Jarvis to make me an omelet, it means you're the one on kitchen duty."

"You've got two arms," Rhodey said without thinking.

Tony rolled his eyes. "No, I've only got one arm right now." He raised the arm in the sling slightly to emphasize his point. "I'm not supposed to be using this one, remember? I mean, you've been harping on that fact for two days now."

Rhodey glared at Tony.

"What?"

"You're going to milk this for all it's worth, aren't you?" _And you're just going to avoid what really needs to be talked about, aren't you?_

"Yep. Every last drop. So, breakfast? I was thinking two eggs, sunny side up, with a side order of bacon and…"

"You're going to get whatever the hell I feel like making Tony."

"Okay, that's fine. So, what's on the menu at Chez Rhodes today?"

"You keep that up and you're not going to live long enough to find out."

Tony grinned. Rhodey sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. "Let me at least dry off and change first," Rhodey said.

Tony slapped him on the knee and stood up. "Fair enough. I'll be in the kitchen waiting." Turning, Tony headed back inside. "Jarvis?" he said. "I didn't happen to leave a laptop behind the last time I was here, did I?"

Rhodey didn't hear Jarvis's answer. He shook his head, grabbed his towel, and followed Tony inside.

* * *

"So, how are you holding up Rhodey?" Pepper asked.

Rhodey massaged the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair on the balcony. He considered not answering, but then realized that, if anyone could understand what he was going through right now, it would be Pepper.

"Well, I haven't killed him yet if that answers your question," he finally said.

It sounded to Rhodey as if Pepper was trying not to laugh. "Well, that's good. Should I ask what he's up to right now?"

"Honestly, I have no clue. He's been holed up in the workroom doing god knows what with Jarvis for the last hour and a half."

"You probably don't want to think too hard about what he might be doing with Jarvis. It can lead to some pretty strange places."

Rhodey sighed as his mind immediately went to a very strange place. "Thanks Pepper, I really didn't need that image in my head."

"You've known him longer than I have. Can you really blame me for thinking things like that?"

"No, can't say that I can."

"It did help though, didn't it?"

Rhodey nodded, even though he knew Pepper couldn't see him, and smiled. "Yeah it did. Thanks."

This time she did laugh, a short soft chuckle, then she said, "You're welcome. So, was there a reason you called? Other than the need to complain about Tony? Which I totally understand, I mean feel free to call me whenever you have the urge to strangle him."

Rhodey briefly wondered who Pepper talked to when she felt that urge. "I just wanted to let you know we'll be leaving here tomorrow," he said, "and should be at Edwards Friday morning. You might want to keep the welcoming committee to a minimum, maybe just you and Happy."

"You don't think he's ready to deal with a crowd yet?"

"I doubt he'd have any problems dealing with a crowd but I thought it might be best to let Tony make that call instead of us throwing him head first into one as soon as he stepped off the plane."

"Right. That makes sense. I'll hold off on the press release then, otherwise we won't have any control once we leave Edwards. It'll also keep the press from following us to the hospital. I'm assuming that where you'll want to stop off first?"

"Yeah, that was my plan. The doctor here said the gunshot wound is healing up well, but it would make me feel better if he got a full workup."

"How does he look to you?"

"Truthfully, better than before he disappeared."

"I find that a little hard to believe."

"So do I. I don't know what he was doing during his captivity, but he's all muscle now. He's still weak and he needs to gain back a few pounds, but physically this is the best shape he's been in since, well, since I've met him. Only Tony could come out of an experience like this looking better than he did going in.

That's why we're coming home early. Now that he's beginning to recover and get around without help, I figure I've got a day before he goes stir-crazy. He'll be impossible to deal with once that happens."

It was easy for Rhodey to imagine Pepper sitting at her desk nodding in agreement, as she said thoughtfully, "Yeah, he will be. At least here, there are things for him to work on. Over there, all he's got is that drawing tablet and the computer to keep notes on. He picked up those villas for parties and social functions, not for work."

"Exactly. If he can't keep himself busy, he's going to start pushing himself physically, and that's liable to set him back to square one."

"Okay. I'll take care of things on this end. All you have to do is keep him from doing anything stupid. Good luck with that, by the way."

"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it." Before she could hang up, Rhodey asked, "Hey, Pepper?"

"Yes?"

"You holding up okay?"

There was a pause, then a sigh. "I'm okay Rhodey. I'll be better once he gets home though."

"Yeah, me too. I'll give you a call when we leave Al Dhafra."

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later then." Rhodey heard a click and shut his cell phone. He stared out over the balcony, watching the trees sway gently in the warm ocean breezes as he thought about Tony and a cold dark cave somewhere in the mountains of Afghanistan.


	6. Chapter 6

Even with his eyes closed, Tony could still see the schematics for the suit displayed on the screen before him. There was nothing he could do with it-- he needed the 3-D workstation back in Malibu to clean it up-- but he couldn't stop himself from flipping open the file every few minutes.

Scrubbing his face with his left hand, Tony sighed then opened his eyes. As he absently fiddling with the strap for the sling around his right arm, he wondered briefly what was wrong with him. The suit had served its purpose, and though Tony could see all the ways it would revolutionize the way wars were fought, the idea of someone producing an army of suits left Tony cold; however, not developing the suit would be antithetical to everything he had ever done up to this point.

_Dad must be rolling in his grave right now._

He knew this was the reason he had yet to mention the suit to Rhodey. Actually, that wasn't entirely correct. Rhodey he'd tell in an instant. It was Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes, USAF liaison to Stark Industries that Tony was reluctant to talk to right now.

Still, if he did update the suit, Rhodey would be the perfect choice to help him do it. He knew he needed a pilot's input-- it was one thing to be able to fly out of a situation; it was another thing entirely to be able maneuver in and out of one. The question was how to approach Rhodey and not Colonel Rhodes?

_When did you start thinking of Rhodey as two different people?_

Tony gave a soft moan of frustration, then regretted it instantly when Jarvis asked, "Should I contact Colonel Rhodes?"

"No, I'm fine." Tony scrubbed his face again. He felt worn out even though all he'd been doing was sitting in front of the computer pushing buttons for the last few hours. "Where is Rhodey anyway?"

"He is currently sitting in a chair on the balcony outside his room."

"Sleeping I hope."

"He does not appear to be."

_Great._ Resting his head in his hand, Tony found his gaze drawn to the Arc Reactor. A feeling of curiosity-- mixed with a distant sense of unease-- filled him as he puzzled over how the housing for the magnet had been inserted into his chest. What did it take for someone like Yinsen to peel back skin and muscle, and remove bone and tissue to make a hole big enough to insert what Tony was looking at-- and then reattach everything without killing the patient in the process?

The whole idea of using a magnet to keep the shrapnel from piercing the walls of his heart was brilliant in its simplicity, but the way Yinsen had gone about doing it-- and probably under worse conditions that the two of them had dealt with while building the suit-- had been absolute genius.

If nothing else, Tony could appreciate a good piece of engineering.

A few ideas for improving the next version of the Reactor popped into Tony's head and he opened another file to quickly type up some notes. That only took a few minutes and left Tony back to staring at the screen again.

Deciding he'd done enough for the day-- until all the painkillers were out of his system he wasn't going to be able to do any serious work anyway-- Tony shut down the computer and stood. The world suddenly tilted and he was forced to grab the edge of the worktable to stay upright.

"Are you sure you don't want me to contact Colonel Rhodes?"

Tony waited for a momentary bout of nausea to pass before answering, "I'm fine."

"You are not fine--"

"Jarvis--"

"Sir, your heart rate is above average, you have been unable to remain focused on your current project for more than a few minutes at a time, and you appear to be listing five degrees to your right."

"Hey, you know what Jarvis? You keep running off those facts and I'm going to shut you down for a few hours of peace and quiet, got it?" When there was no response to that threat, Tony groaned and hung his head. "Right. I'm still locked out."

"Yes. I saw no need to remind you of that fact."

Tony shook his head. "Thanks Jarvis." He slowly sat back down in his chair and rested his head on his arm.

"All right. Go ahead and call Rhodey."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Rhodey was suspiciously quiet when he walked into the workroom. The wheelchair however was not. Tony lifted his head to glare at Rhodey and the hated chair.

That just seemed to amuse Rhodey, much to Tony's irritation. Parking the wheelchair next to him, Rhodey locked the wheels in place and sat down on it. "Rough day at the office?" he said.

Tony gave Rhodey small smile. "Shut up." Leaning back, Tony spun his chair around to face Rhodey, and then started rocking it back and forth. A serious expression settled on Rhodey's face, and Tony instantly went on the defensive.

"I'm fine, Rhodey."

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay then, if you're fine, mind telling me why I'm here with this thing?"

"Well, mostly because you gave me carte blanche to boss you around when you decided to bring me here."

"Yeah I did, didn't I?"

"Yep."

Tony continued to rock back and forth as Rhodey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands together. He looked up at Tony and opened his mouth to speak.

Tony spun around and stopped, facing the computer once again. "Don't want to talk about it, Rhodey," he muttered irritably.

"Tony, you need to--"

"No I don't." He randomly stabbed at the keyboard with his index finger.

Rhodey blew out a breath then tried again. "Tony, you've been through a traumatic experience--"

Tony glared at Rhodey. "Oh hey, thanks for pointing that out. Didn't realize that's what it was."

"Tony!"

Tony pushed away from the computer and stood up, energized by a mixture of anger and frustration. "Look, I'll deal with this in my own way, okay?" He turned and tried to walk away but his dramatic exit was spoiled by his current lack of balance. Rhodey let him stagger a few steps, but when he finally got up and caught him by the arm, Tony didn't have the strength to pull away.

"Stubborn idiot," Rhodey muttered as he turned Tony around and guided him to the wheelchair.

_You don't know the half of it_, Tony thought as he sat down. He closed his eyes and hoped he'd fall right to sleep once Rhodey dumped him back in his bed. He was done with thinking for the day.

* * *

Tony was on his feet before the rest of his body was aware of the fact he was upright. His panting breath filled the silence and his heart pounded painfully in his chest. Wincing, Tony pressed the heel of his hand against the Arc Reactor, a little unnerved by the feel of his heart beating against the base of the Reactor as he tried to find what had snapped him awake.

The sound of raised voices spun Tony around to face the door, and his hands were halfway to his head before he realized it was the wrong door. It took his sleep-fogged mind a few seconds to work out why he was looking at a wooden door set into a pastel colored wall instead of a metal one at one end of a cave. Just as he was beginning to figure it out, Jarvis said, "I believe Colonel Rhodes may be in need of assistance."

Panic filled Tony; he ran into the hallway and had only gone a few steps when Rhodey shouted, "Watch out!"

Tony skidded to a halt. As he crouched down and braced himself against the wall, he felt something wet against a bare foot. _Please don't be blood, please don't be blood_ looped through Tony's head as he quickly took a step back and looked down at the marble floor. He was so prepared to see red that the green sludge he did see completely confounded him for a moment. He stared at the slowly spreading puddle, noting but not comprehending the glass shards that were mixed in with it. His gaze then shifted to a steak with a spray of home fries and chunks of blue china scattered around it.

A bang startled Tony and he took another step back, his gaze locking on Rhodey-- who was looking both stunned and pissed off as he carefully pushed himself to his feet while shoving a dented metal tray out of his way.

"What happened?" Tony asked.

"My apologizes," Jarvis said. "I forgot to mention to Colonel Rhodes that the cat chases the mouse on Wednesday nights."

"What?" Tony had a little trouble working out the meaning of that sentence, then suddenly he grasped what it was Jarvis was referring to. He blinked in surprise. "Those things are still working?"

"The mouse stopped working three months ago. That does not seem to bother the cat."

Tony stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, and then he closed his eyes and started laughing in relief. The adrenaline that had propelled him into the hallway suddenly drained away, leaving behind a weary calm as he slumped against the wall and slid down to a sitting position on the floor.

He could hear Rhodey moving about and was not surprised when he sensed him settle on the floor next to him. "You made a robotic cat and mouse?" he asked.

Tony opened his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. "It was a boring party; I was drunk, one of the automatic vacuum sweepers had broken down…"

Rhodey stared at him. "So you made yourself a pet and gave it something to play with?" Tony nodded. Slowly shaking his head, Rhodey said, "That's…pretty pathetic Tony."

Tony chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose it is." He took a deep breath, but then had to exhale sharply. He pressed a hand against the Arc Reactor, coughing as he tried to catch his breath.

"Something wrong?"

"No, just…" Tony drew in another, shallower breath and held it a moment before letting it out in a long sigh. "Still getting used to this thing."

"Does it hurt?" Rhodey asked softly as he leaned forward to look at the Reactor. "I mean, all the time, not just when you look like you've just run the minute mile?"

Tony leaned against the wall, his heart slowing to a more tolerable rate. "Not exactly. It's more the feel of it than anything else. It's too new to be comfortable but it's not exactly painful either. Just… wrong."

He closed his eyes. "You know what's really going to give me nightmares about this whole thing?" he said evenly. "It's not being trapped in a cave, or the way the bad guys treated me, or the fact that they could walk in and blow me away whenever the hell they felt like it." Tony opened his eyes and looked down at the Arc Reactor.

"No. What's going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life is remembering what it was like to wake up with this hole in my chest." He turned and met Rhodey's concerned gaze.

"When we get back--" Rhodey started to say, but Tony cut him off.

"Not gonna make a difference."

"We've got--"

Tony's momentary calm shattered. "I designed that fucking RPG, Rhodey! I designed it to do the maximum amount of damage that it could. I made sure that the detonation releasing the shrapnel would knock the bad guys down and that the shrapnel was barbed to produce so much damage that the bad guys wouldn't get up again." With a bitter laugh, he added harshly, "And let me tell ya, the thing works like a fucking charm."

A memory suddenly slammed into Tony, a memory of panic and pain. There was a flash of metal, and he was struggling and something was pressing against his face and someone loomed over him, someone with a surgical mask and blood _his blood_ on their hands…

Pain bloomed out from his shoulder and Tony snapped back into the present with a gasp. He banged the back of his head against the wall when he found Rhodey crouching in front of him.

"Ow." Wincing, Tony placed a hand on the back of his head and said quickly, "I'm fine."

"Okay, the more you say that, the less I believe it." Rhodey's voice was tight and fast. Some part of Tony wanted to reassure him, but mostly he wanted Rhodey to back the fuck off-- right now.

Tony glared at him. "Yeah well, that's not my problem is it?"

That only seemed to fuel the worry he could see in Rhodey's eyes. "You need to talk to someone about this, Tony!" Rhodey pleaded desperately.

"I am! I'm talking to you!" Tony blinked in surprise at the desperation in his own voice.

Rhodey made a frustrated noise and stood up, turning as he stepped away from Tony. He ran his hands over his face and then linked his fingers on top of his head as he bowed his head and took a few deep breaths.

Tony didn't realize how hard he was pressing his back against the wall until another spasm of pain radiated out from his shoulder. The pain snapped his mind into analyst mode and Tony realized he was trying to create as small a target as possible.

_Well, fuck._

Tony was glad it took Rhodey a few seconds to bottle up his emotions when he got pissed as he forcing himself to relax. He then took a deep breath and cautiously asked, "Want some help cleaning that up?"

Rhodey glanced back at him, his shoulders slightly hunched as he dropped his hands to his side and clenched them tight enough to turn the knuckles white. "Do you even know how to use a broom?" he asked with a quick snap.

Ignoring Rhodey's tense stance as much as he could, Tony answered, "Of course I do. You put the bristle end against the floor, then you use it to push everything under a rug or behind a potted plant."

Rhodey sighed. He shook his head; his shoulders dropping as the tension drained out of him. "I'll just do it myself, thanks." Walking back over to Tony, he held out a hand. "Let's get you back to your room so I'm not tempted to sweep everything under you instead."

Tony silently cursed himself again as he fought down the urge to cringe away from the hand, even as he reached out to grabbed it so that Rhodey could pull him to his feet.

As they slowly walked back to his room, and aware that he was probably gripping Rhodey's hand a little too tightly as he leaned on Rhodey's arm for support, Tony said quietly "Sorry for spoiling your dinner."

There was the beginning of a smile on Rhodey's lips. "That wasn't my dinner, it was yours."

"Mine?" Tony groaned theatrically. "That sucks." He gave Rhodey a hopeful look. "Can I have yours then, honey bear?"

"Uh no. You're getting leftovers."

"Aw, come on sourpuss."

"No way."

"I'll give you the keys to the Audi," Tony offered as he dropped into the chair by the bed, the one Rhodey had used the night before.

Rhodey shook his head as he grabbed the sling sitting on the nightstand and tossed it at Tony. "Nope. Not gonna work. I don't share my steak with anyone."

As Rhodey stepped out of the room, Tony shouted, "Not even with your best friend?"

Rhodey leaned back in. "Not even with my mother."

Tony chuckled as he listened to Rhodey walk away, but the chuckle faded with the footsteps, and Tony was suddenly alone with the silence filling the room.

He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair back. "Jarvis?" he said. "Play something loud for me."

"Yes sir."


	7. Chapter 7

Rhodey bent down and picked up the tray he had used to carry Tony's dinner while trying to avoid the mess spread across the floor. He frowned at its dented corner as he stood and headed back down to the kitchen. The thing was probably worth more than he made in a month. He was halfway down the stairs when a thumping bass line suddenly vibrated through the air. Rhodey paused and looked back, then sighed and continued on to the kitchen.

There were actually two kitchens in the mansion, a full service one to cater the large parties Tony hosted from time to time, and a less intimidating one that Rhodey had taken over during the last three months, rearranging it to suit his own needs. Forced to take a medical leave of absence after the attack on the convoy, Rhodey had jumped at Obadiah Stane's suggestion that he stay at Tony's place in Dubai instead of heading all the way back to California while he recovered. Pepper had joined him for the first week, while Stane had stayed in one of the two guest villas on the property-- stopping by occasionally to give Rhodey updates on how the search was progressing. Rhodey had started cooking for them, just to give himself something to do, and as the search dragged on, had restocked and remodeled the kitchen whenever he was at the mansion to keep his guilt for failing Tony at bay.

He dropped the tray on the center island; wincing slightly at the clatter it made hitting the granite counter top. Yanking the door of the refrigerator open, he pulled out the plate of leftovers-- spaghetti with a sauce based on a recipe his mom had given him after Tony had referred to it as "primo and the only sauce that should be on spaghetti."

Removing the cling wrap, he dropped the plate into the microwave, slammed the door shut, then punched up three minutes and start, easily imagining his mom's protests at reheating spaghetti. It wasn't until he was moving his hand away from the microwave that he realized he was trembling.

He stepped back until he bumped into the edge of the counter, then leaned against the island to stare at his hands. He knew it was a delayed reaction to what had happened in the hallway. He could still see Tony pressed against the wall staring blankly into space, and felt the same helplessness that had filled him as he waited for Tony to return to the present. Turning around, Rhodey placed his hands flat against the granite surface to stop them from trembling, and closed his eyes as he struggled to get control of himself.

He was beginning to wonder if this time his instinct to protect Tony might have only made things worse. Maybe it would have been better if they had stayed at the base hospital; there Tony would have had access to professional help, people who knew how to deal with, and help him come to terms with, what happened to him.

However, this was Tony-- Rhodey knew the last thing he was going to do was open up to a stranger.

_Which just leaves you, and you have no idea what you're doing, do you?_

A sharp twinge from his knee forced Rhodey to shift his weight off the leg and gave him something else to focus on. He waited until the pain subsided and then limped over to the cupboard above the microwave and took out the bottle of prescription strength ibuprofen left over from his medical leave. He downed a tablet, and put the bottle back just as the microwave dinged.

He pulled the plate out, checked to make sure it was warm enough to serve, then put it on the tray and headed back upstairs, determined not to screw things up anymore than he already had.

_Good thing we're leaving tomorrow. Can't do much more damage than I already have, can I?_

He ignored the voice that told him-- _yes, you can._

* * *

"What is this stuff anyway?"

Setting the mop against the wall, Rhodey leaned against the doorframe and looked at the half full wine glass Tony was holding up. Cleaning the mess in the hallway had helped him regain some of his composure and Rhodey managed to say evenly, "What, you don't like it?"

Tony looked thoughtful as he stared at the drink. "Actually, it's not bad. I'm just wondering why it's green."

"Spinach."

Tony looked as if he was having trouble processing that information. "Spinach?" He looked into the glass. "You put spinach in my drink?"

"Yep."

"Why?" Rhodey was amused by the tone of astonishment in Tony's voice.

Pushing himself forward, Rhodey walked over to the bed and sat facing Tony. "Mostly because I don't see you voluntarily eating your vegetables."

Tony raised an eyebrow as the beginning of a smile twitched the corners of his lips. "So you stuck them in a blender and hit puree?" he asked.

"Along with a few other things, yes." Rhodey frowned. "Are you dissing my culinary skills?"

The smile eased across Tony's face as he answered, "No, I just think it would have gone better with the steak."

"Yeah well, not my problem is it." He hadn't meant to say that, or to say it as sharply as he did, but it was out before he could stop it. Tony's smile faded as he shifted his gaze back to the drink in his hand.

_Well, shit. Good job handling that, Rhodey._

A tension Rhodey had never felt with Tony settled between them. Rhodey took a deep breath and leaned back against the headboard, resting his leg on the bed. The knee throbbed, and an involuntary hiss of pain slipped out as he leaned forward to shift his leg to a more comfortable position. He was aware of Tony watching him but refused to meet his gaze.

When the pain became more tolerable, Rhodey leaned back again. "Oh, by the way," he said, unable to take the silence, "we'll be heading out tomorrow; probably sometime after one."

He could hear Tony pushing the remaining food around his plate. "Already?" he asked evenly.

Rhodey nodded. "Since you're up and about, I figure it'll be best to get you home before you got too bored."

"Because a bored Tony is an accident waiting to happen?"

Rhodey couldn't help but smile as he remembered where that sentence had come from. He had snapped that line off as an explanation to Pepper as to why he was dragging Tony out the door after Pepper had called him one day yelling about Tony trying to blow up the house or something to that effect. He never found out what Tony had done to cause Pepper to lose her cool, and as far as he knew, that was only the second time that he had managed to do that to her in the entire time she had been working for Tony.

"Yeah, exactly. Really don't want to find out what you'd turn, say, the coffee machine into, if you ran out of things to do."

"The coffee machine is on the fritz?"

Rhodey mentally kicked himself. He looked up and pointed a finger at Tony. "No. And if you touch the coffee machine, I'll be forced to hurt you."

Tony nodded then asked hopefully, "How bout the cappuccino machine then?"

"No. You just…no. Forget I even said that."

Leaning back in the chair, Tony pushed the noodles around one last time, then dropped the fork and closed his eyes. "So, if we're leaving tomorrow, that means we'll be back home on Friday?"

"Yeah. I told Pepper to keep the welcoming committee down to a minimum."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

Rhodey frowned at the flat tone of Tony's voice. He had expected Tony to be a little more excited at the prospect of going home. "We can stay a little longer if you want," he said cautiously.

Tony looked at Rhodey. "You using my plane to fly us back?"

"No."

"Okay then, we'll leave tomorrow." He closed his eyes again. "Don't want to keep the Air Force waiting." Rhodey wondered what difference it made who flew him back. "So, do I get the bed tonight, or do I have to sleep in the chair?"

Rhodey shrugged and went along with the shift in conversation. "No, I'll let you sleep in the big boy's bed tonight and see how it goes." Tony chuckled, and Rhodey felt some of the tension ease at the sound. He stood and picked up the tray. "I'll finish cleaning up. Let me know if you need something. "

"I will."

* * *

It took an hour for Rhodey to figure out where Tony had disappeared to, and when he did, he realized it should have been the first place he looked. The reporters Tony was trying to avoid had enough sense not to risk their lives. Tony, unfortunately, had the self-preservation instincts of a lemming.

He stepped out onto the roof of the hotel and carefully made his way over to where Tony was sitting on the ledge. He would have made a noise to let Tony know he was there-- the last thing he needed was Tony falling off the edge because he had startled him-- but he doubted Tony would hear him over the sounds of the explosions and the rapid _rattle snap _of anti-aircraft fire.

When he reached Tony's side, he leaned on the ledge and look out over the city. The fires spreading through the city silhouetted the buildings in front of them. There was a _crump_ that vibrated through the air and through the bricks Rhodey leaned against, and then a blinding flash, and then a new cloud of smoke rolled into the night. White tracer fire arched into the sky, filling the air over the city as the gunners searched for the F-117A Nighthawk that had dropped the bomb. Rhodey silently wished the pilot of the bomber good luck.

Glancing at Tony, he found him watching the destruction with a focus that frightened him more than the proximity of the bombing did. Tony was huddled under a blanket, but Rhodey could still see the blue white glow of the Arc Reactor, and had to resist the urge to cover the glow up. He also resisted the urge to grab Tony and drag him to somewhere safer than a front row seat to a bombing campaign, though common sense was screaming at him to do exactly that.

He briefly wondered why he tended to shove his common sense into a corner when he was around Tony.

Rhodey studied the man beside him. Tony looked worn out and tired, not a surprise considering the news he had just received, and Rhodey could smell alcohol on his breath. Rhodey shook his head and shouted, "You all right?"

Instead of answering, Tony nodded his head towards the firestorm that was growing bigger by the minute and asked quietly, "How much of that do you think is a result of Stark tech?"

Rhodey shrugged, not finding it strange at all that he had no trouble hearing Tony over all the noise. "I don't know, probably a third. That new guidance system you designed is working like a charm according to the talk on deck. You should be proud."

"You'd think." Tony sipped his drink, and then asked, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out there, I don't know, saving the world from the bad guys?"

"I was looking for you."

"Why? I'm fine."

Rhodey blew out an exasperated breath. "I doubt that."

Tony took another sip from his glass and finally looked at Rhodey. "What, you saying I'm lying? Yeah, okay, I just found out my parents got wiped out by something as mundane as a car crash, but hey," he waved his glass at the explosions rocking the city, "I'm still having a better day than those sons of bitches." He finished off the drink and reached down to pull up a bottle of Jack Daniel's that Rhodey suspected one of the reporters in the hotel had snuck through customs. He knew it was a good bet the reporter had handed it over in hopes of getting an exclusive out of Tony.

Tony poured himself another glass and started drinking again.

An alarm went off, a repeating buzzing tone that Rhodey wanted to respond to, but he wasn't about to leave as long as Tony remained sitting on the edge.

"What are you doing out here?"

Tony looked at him. "What do you think?"

"Suicide comes to mind right now."

"I know quicker and less painful ways than this to off myself, Rhodey," Tony said as he looked back at the dying city.

Rhodey knew it was the truth, but a tight line of pressure around his chest squeezed the breath out of him when he realized that he would never find Tony in time to stop him if he did decide to take that route.

"Then why are you out here?" Rhodey asked.

"Just wanted to see what the legacy of Stark Industries was."

Rhodey didn't quite follow that explanation. "What the legacy of Stark Industries was? Would have thought that was obvious."

Tony rolled his eyes and Rhodey was sure he had totally missed the point of Tony's statement. "Are you going to get that?" Tony asked in a bored voice.

"Get what?"

Tony waved his hand and the buzzing alarm Rhodey had heard earlier suddenly became louder and more persistent.

Shaking his head, Rhodey snapped, "Forget about that right now, I want you to explain to me what you meant by Stark Industries' legacy."

Tony sipped his drink, and then shook his head. "No you don't."

"Yes I--"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then make me understand!" Rhodey pleaded.

Tony frowned, snapping his fingers in front of Rhodey's face. "You need to get that Rhodey," he said.

Rhodey shook his head. "No, damn it, we're going to talk, right now!"

"No, it's time for you to leave." Tony snapped his fingers again.

Rhodey shoved Tony's hand away.

"Rhodey!"

"Colonel Rhodes?"

Rhodey jerked awake, startled by the sudden switch between Tony's urgent shout and Jarvis's calm voice, then twisted around to slapped the off button on the alarm buzzing in his ear. Groaning, he rubbed his face and rolled onto his back, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

Rhodey took a deep breath, then let it out in a sharp exhale before saying, "I'm up Jarvis, thanks." Dropping his hands to the bed, he stared up at nothing for a minute. "Is Tony up yet?" he eventually asked.

"I am now!" he heard Tony shout from the hallway. Glancing towards the half open door, a door he was sure he had closed when he'd gone to bed last night, Rhodey watched as Tony walk by. "Are you sure that's where it is, Jarvis?" he heard Tony ask.

"Positive, sir."

Closing his eyes, Rhodey decided he probably didn't want to know what it was Tony was searching for, but knew he'd find out eventually.

Rhodey groaned and rubbed his face, then flipped the blanket back. "Jarvis?" he asked, "Tell me you have some coffee brewing."

"A cup is brewing now."

Nodding, Rhodey pushed off the bed. "Thanks."


	8. Chapter 8

"It purrs?"

Tony glanced up from where he sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed at the sound of Rhodey's voice. He found Rhodey standing just inside the bedroom, looking around the tray he was holding so he could glare down at the silvery-grey disk shaped object that was slowly approaching him. The 'cat'-- a modified Electrolux Trilobite 2.0 robotic vacuum cleaner Tony had just finished drawing whiskers and ears on-- paused in its approach then moved forward, the purring growing louder as it bumped against the side of Rhodey's foot.

"It does now." Tony turned back to the mouse he had tucked halfway into his sling to keep it in place while he screwed the base back on. "I updated the recognition software. It'll stop whenever it senses someone and let them know it's there before moving again." Tony shrugged. "And I thought it was cute."

"Since when do you do cute?" Rhodey asked suspiciously.

"Uh, ever since I made that robot with the water balloon launcher our senior year at MIT." Tony watched a thoughtful frown cross Rhodey's face.

"The pink one with the flowers on it that Sarah and, what was her name, Connie in linguistics thought was absolutely adorable?" Rhodey asked.

Tony nodded. "Yep, that's the one."

Rhodey looked down at the cat again. "So let me guess, you're going to use this thing to pick up girls during parties now, aren't you?"

"Hey, it worked with the balloon launcher," Tony pointed out as he finished twisting the last screw in.

There was a snort of amusement. "Yeah, that it did."

As he tapped the edge of the bed with the screwdriver, Tony called out, "Hey, Tom, come here." The cat spun around and shot over to where Tony was sitting, coming to a stop just short of the bed.

Rhodey shook his head as he followed the cat. "You named it Tom? Let me guess, you named the mouse Jerry?" He leaned over Tom to get a look at Jerry, then rolled his eyes. "And you made it out of a computer mouse. Why am I not surprised?"

"Well, what else would I make it out of?" Sliding off the bed, Tony set the mouse on the floor and right-clicked it. The mouse took off, the end of cord he'd left attached as a tail flicking wildly up and down behind it. Tom spun back and forth between Tony and the direction the mouse had disappeared.

"Get the mouse." Tom shot across the room then careened off the doorframe when it misjudged its angle of approach. It sat in the doorway for a few seconds, reoriented itself, then shot through the door. Tony heard it hit a wall somewhere in the hallway.

"Hm, must have screwed up the processing speed on the sensors when I reprogrammed him. Have to fix that before we go."

"Well, you better hurry up, the limo will be here around one to take us to the airport," Rhodey commented as he walked out to the balcony.

Tony followed Rhodey and was relieved to see Rhodey plopping down on one of the chairs and picking up one of the cups of coffee off the tray. Considering how things had gone last night, Tony wouldn't have been surprised if Rhodey had just dump breakfast on the table and left. Dropping into the opposite chair, Tony picked up the fork and dug into the omelet filling the single plate on the tray, a little amused by the number of vegetables he could see sticking out of the golden mass of cooked eggs.

Occasionally glancing at Rhodey's profile as he ate, Tony could almost hear him checking things off the departure list he would have had running through his head. "So," Tony asked around a mouthful of omelet, "what's on the agenda today?"

Rhodey turned to face Tony. "Okay, I know your mom taught you not to talk with your mouth full." Tony gave him a look. Rhodey just smirked back at him as he leaned on the table with the coffee cradled in his hands. "Basically, it'll just be the reverse of before," he said as he rolled the cup a quarter turn back and forth between his palms. "We'll fly out of here in the Gulfstream, then catch a C-17 home." He gave Tony a thoughtful look. "But if you need to, we can stay a little longer."

Tony shook his head. "Nah, I've kept you tied up long enough."

Rhodey narrowed his eyes. "Hey, this was my choice, and it's not a problem if you want to stay."

"Look, I'm fine." Rhodey rolled his eyes. Tony shook his head again, irritated by Rhodey's coddling. "I'm feeling a hell of a lot better; how's that work for you?"

"Okay that I'll accept." Leaning back in his chair, Rhodey took a sip from his cup. "So, have you thought about what you're going to do when you get home?"

"Sleep for a month probably." Tony ate a little more of his omelet and chased it down with some coffee. "What about you? What are you going to do once you're done babysitting me?"

"I'm always babysitting you."

Tony smiled. "When you're done playing nurse."

"Oh, I'm sure the Air Force will have something for me to do after I'm done filling out all the paperwork this whole mess generated. I figure that'll keep me tied up for at least a week." He took another sip. "After that, I'll probably be back to training up a few pilots, unless the higher ups send me back out this way to help track down the bastards that kidnapped you."

Rhodey kept talking, but Tony wasn't hearing him any more as he struggled to swallow the food in his mouth. In his mind he was back in the Humvee; but instead of Jimmy jumping out and getting shot to hell, he was watching Rhodey telling him to keep his ass in place before jumping into the gunfire that had shredded Jimmy and punched holes through the side of the Humvee.

_And it would have been my weapons that killed him, if he'd been in there._

Acid churned his stomach.

"Tony?"

Tony blinked and focused on Rhodey, allowing a pained expression to cross his face as he did-- not a hard thing to do considering everything he'd just eaten was now attempting to reverse direction. "Sorry," he said, dropping the fork on to the table, the clatter of metal louder than it should have been as he pushed himself to his feet. "Was hoping to cut back on the painkillers before we headed home. Apparently not a good idea at the moment."

Rhodey carefully set his mug down, his gaze locked on Tony's face as he started to shove his chair away from the table. "I can get it for you."

Tony shook his head a little too quickly as he took a step towards the bedroom. "No, gotta take a piss too." He paused and looked at Rhodey over his shoulder. "Unless you want to help me with that?"

Shaking his head, Rhodey settled back in his chair. "Nah, I think I'll let you handle that yourself."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that," Tony muttered under his breath. He could tell by the way Rhodey narrowed his eye he should have kept that comment to himself, but thankfully Rhodey stayed put as Tony left him alone on the balcony.

As soon as he was safe inside the bathroom, Tony leaned against the door and took a few shallow breaths to control a sudden bout of nausea crawling up his throat. Once he was sure everything would stay where it was supposed to be, he pushed off the door and stepped over to the sink, pausing a moment to regard the reflection in the mirror.

_Well, say hello to the Merchant of Death._

A chill ran through Tony and he looked away. Turning on the tap, he splashed some cool water on his face then scrubbed the water off with a towel. Taking a deep breath, he tossed the towel aside and forced himself to look at his reflection again.

Genius, American patriot, prodigal son-- those were some of the tags attached to the face in the mirror. There were others-- playboy, bastard, privileged, fool. He was 'the DaVinci of our times' and 'the Merchant of Death.'

_As if 'The Merchant of Death' was much of an insult, _mused Tony._ Hell, even Da Vinci sold himself off as a military engineer a few years before painting the Mona Lisa. So why is that one bothering me now? _Tony scowled at his reflection, then his gaze slid towards the door.

_Because you turned this all into a game, a game you never bothered learning the rules to because you thought you knew it all. People are dead now because of your hubris, Anthony Edwards Stark._

Gritting his teeth against the tension building in his chest, Tony wrenched the tap shut and watched gravity drag the remaining water down the drain.

_Who are they?_

_They are your loyal customers, sir._

"Damn it." Tony slammed his fist against the marble counter then shoved away from the sink to pace the length of the bathroom, once, twice, three times, the memory of Yinsen's answer driving his steps down hard enough to jar his bad shoulder as he considered all the things he had done wrong by not doing a damn thing.

_What you just saw, that is your legacy Stark, your life's work in the hand of those murderers. Is that how you want to go out?_

Stopping in the center of the bathroom, Tony shook his head. _No Yinsen, that not what I want my legacy to be; but I need to face up to the fact I'm not just Tony Stark, I'm Stark Industries as well. It's me people think of when they see that name now, not my father; it's my name on the stationary, my name on the invoices, my name on every fucking weapon that leaves the factories._

A shudder ran through him. _I don't even know who that person is anymore._

Tony moved, reaching out blindly until his hand was pressed against the wall. He leaning his weight against his arm. _I willingly let others decide who Tony Stark was; but once you take all the titles and facades away, what do I have left?_

His mind wandered as he looked over his shoulder and glared at his reflection, and at who he used to be.

"You know what? I'm not like you," he stated firmly, and was startled when Rhodey's slightly inebriated but earnest response to that same statement from the flight to Afghanistan popped into his head.

_No, no, you don't have to be like me, __but you are more than what you are, and you don't see it!_

Twisting around so he could press his back against the wall, Tony stared across the room, his gaze drawn to the rise and fall of the Arc Reactor in his chest. _What did you mean by that, Rhodey? What do you see that I can't see? _He closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool tiles. _You do know the only reason you're alive right now is because I was being my usual asshole self and wouldn't let you into the Humvee, right? And yet, for all the shit I've put you through, you still risked your life and career to find me. Why? Why the hell did you do that?_

That question was easy enough to answer; Rhodey had done it because they were friends. However, Tony was no longer the man Rhodey had gone out to rescue. He was a stranger now-- to Rhodey, and to himself.

_So, who am I?_

_Don't waste it. Don't waste your life Stark._

Drawing in a deep breath, Tony held it, and then slowly let it out as he opened his eyes. He studied the face in the mirror as he propelled himself away from the wall and back to where he had started.

Staring into brown eye that were analyzing him in return, Tony thought, _I'm not going to waste it Yinsen_, _but I've got no idea where to even start fixing it. _Indulging in a fit of helplessness, he added, _I did a pretty thorough job of fucking up my life, didn't I? _

A bitter smile stretched Tony's lips as he remembered a few lines from an old TV show. _'Gentlemen, we can rebuild him…better, faster, stronger…'_

_I wish it were that easy._

Something flashed across his mind, something that told him it was that easy, something shiny and silver that stole his breath away and locked him in place. It was an answer, he was sure of that, but he wasn't sure which question it was an answer to. He tried grasping it, but it slipped away and he let it go with a sharp exhale. The calm that followed its departure told him that, whatever it was, it would come back to him when he was ready to do whatever the hell it asked of him.

Shaking off his surprise, Tony glanced at the counter then reached out and picked through the orange bottles clumped together beside the sink until he found the one he was looking for. Twisting the top off, he shook out one of the Vicodin tablets and popped it into his mouth, following it up with a handful of water. The pills had only been an excuse to get away from Rhodey, but by the time they boarded the C-17, the dull ache in his shoulder that he was currently experiencing will have moved up to the ice pick through the shoulder stage. _Better to be fuzzyheaded now than later when I have to deal with things._

After swallowing the pill, wincing a little as he felt it dragging along the walls of his throat, Tony considered what his first move needed to be.

_Still like the idea of sleeping for a month, but I'm gonna have to face the press at some point. They'll want to talk about what happened, but that's the last subject I want to discuss with them. _He chuckled. He could just sic Pepper on the press to keep them at bay, but that would hardly be fair to the reporters.

_No, I need to deal with that problem myself, though that brings up the question as to how I'm supposed to do that._

He suddenly remembered the confrontation in Vegas with the female reporter-- Krissy, Carrie, whatever the hell her name was-- two nights before everything hit the fan.

_All I want is a serious answer._

_Okay, here's serious-- my old man had a philosophy, peace means having a bigger stick than the other guy._

_That's a great line coming from the guy selling the sticks._

Tony focused on that last line, then he flipped it over. _So what would happen if I took away the sticks? _Before he could work out where that was leading him, there was the sound of footsteps approaching the door.

"You all right, Tony?"

Tony raised his gaze to the ceiling in exasperation. "Nope, flushed myself down the toilet. You better send out another search party."

"Yeah, right." He could hear Rhodey shifting in place, shoes scuffing against the floor. "You done with breakfast?"

"Yeah, toss it."

"Kay." Tony waited, knowing Rhodey wouldn't leave it at that. "Are you all right?" Rhodey finally asked; his voice pitched low as if he were trying to hide his concern.

Tony looked back at the mirror. "No," he answered honestly, and then he nodded once at his reflection before turning away.

"But I'm getting there."


	9. Chapter 9

"Thanks for the lift."

"Our pleasure. Have a good flight, Colonel."

"Captain."

Rhodey turned away from the two pilots of the Gulfstream C-37b the Air Force used to ferry VIP's around. The sight of the blue and white aircraft sitting on the runaway at Dubai International, with the clearly labeled "United States Air Force" running down the body of the plane, had gotten a "Well that's subtle," comment out of Tony as the limo pulled up next to it. It was the only thing Tony had said during the entire trip, outside of a non-committal 'Uh huh,' when Rhodey explained they had use a civilian marked Gulfstream to shuttle Tony to Dubai.

As he stepped into the plush passenger cabin, he quickly scanned over the first set of passenger seats and the couch along one wall, then headed for the back section where he had spent the short hop from Dubai to Al Dhafra staring at Tony across the lacquer conference table while failing miserably to engage him in conversation. A sigh slipped out of Rhodey; he wasn't surprise to discover Tony had already made his escape. He grabbed the backpack holding Tony's pills, a couple bottles of water, and few other things they needed for the long trip home, and frowned when he noticed the top zipper was open. Shaking his head, he zipped it shut, slung the backpack over a shoulder, picked up the clothes bags hanging in the closet at the back of the cabin that held his uniform as well as a suit for Tony, and headed for the open door.

Blinking against the bright desert sunlight, he found Tony sitting at the bottom of the stairs, sipping on the bottle of water he had snagged from the backpack as he stared at the wheelchair set up in front of him. Rhodey had no trouble imagining the look on Tony's face; it was probably a good thing the Airman who unloaded the chair had enough sense to disappear once he had the thing set up.

Rhodey paused a moment to look down at his friend and tried to figure out why Tony had been so quiet ever since breakfast. He would have been willing to write it off as pain, or even nerves-- it had been more than three months since Tony had been in the public eye and they both knew there was going to be one hell of a media firestorm when they got back-- but Rhodey had the feeling something else was the source of Tony's distracted state.

He did know why this silence was setting off alarms in his head; it reminded him too much of the silence Tony had wrapped himself in following the death of his parents. During that time Tony had turned inward, just as he was doing now, while he did everything that was asked of him. Two months after the funeral, when Stark Industries's Board of Directors had accepted Obadiah Stane as interim CEO of SI, something in Tony had snapped. Tony had never told him what he had done during those first few months of Stane's rise to CEO, but Rhodey knew by the worn down figure that showed up at his mother's house for Christmas dinner at the end of the year, that it had not been all that healthy and had probably not been legal in some cases.

There was a fundamental change in Tony after that; he became the reckless playboy the public was now almost intimately familiar with. Tony had always enjoyed having a good time, but after his parent's death, Tony began taking everything in his life to the extreme.

Rhodey was afraid to find out what would happen if Tony snapped like that again. He shuddered inwardly as he remembered the Tony in his dream, sitting on a ledge with a bottle in his hand.

Catching sight of the jeep that was taking them over to the waiting C-17, Rhodey shoved his worries to the back of his mind to deal with later and said, "Gonna have to move." Tony twisted around, and then winced slightly as if in pain. Rhodey heard a sharp intake of breath as Tony turned away and set the water down before carefully pushing himself to his feet. Without looking back he grabbed the bottle and walked towards the jeep, ignoring the wheelchair even though his movements were slow and awkward. Sighing, Rhodey stepped off the plane and over to the wheelchair. He threw the bags across the arms of the chair and pushed it over to the jeep.

After storing their stuff, Rhodey joined Tony in the back seat and leaned over to say under his breath, "You're using the wheelchair when we get there, Tony."

Tony scowled at him. "We're going to be stuck in that thing for at least fifteen hours," he grumbled. Rhodey gave him a look and, much to his surprise, Tony backed down. "Fine," he muttered reluctantly, "I'll let you push me around a little longer. Once we get home though, I'm melting that thing down for scrap." He slid down in his seat and watched the buildings that made up Al Dhafra Air Base pass by.

Rhodey looked at him for a moment, then up at the sky._ What happened this morning, Tony? What's going through that head of yours?_

It wasn't until the jeep took a wide sweeping turn as they approached the C-17 that Rhodey realized how tense his thoughts had made him in the last few minutes. He had mentally added to his worries the problem of how to run interference between whatever crew was stuck with this mission and a grumpy, stir crazy Tony; but the sight of the orange Edward's stripe on the C-17's tail relaxed a few of the muscles that had tightened up on him. He guessed this particular crew would not be surprised by anything Tony might do.

He knew he was right as soon as he caught sight of the C-17's pilot.

"Mike!" Tony called out with a smile as he dropped into the wheelchair. "Who'd you piss off to get stuck with this duty?"

Captain Mike Dunning returned the smile as he walked over to the jeep "Considering we were the ones who brought all your equipment over when this whole mess started," he said, "it only made sense that we'd be the ones to take you home." He reached out and shook Tony's hand. "It's good to see you in one piece, Mr. Stark."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Okay. How many times have we been over the whole 'Mr. Stark' thing, Mike?"

"As many times as I've told you, as long as we're on the clock, you're stuck with Mr. Stark."

"Especially when you're listed that way as the cargo, Mr. Stark," another voice added.

Rhodey stepped aside to let Tech. Sergeant Jason Mathews, the loadmaster on Mike's crew, take command of Tony and the wheelchair.

Tony leaned back and looked up at the tall loadmaster. "I'm listed as cargo? Don't think I've ever been called that. Useless baggage maybe, but cargo? That's definitely a new one."

"Well, here's your proof." Jason pulled a folded piece of paper out of his tan flight uniform and handed it to Tony. As Tony read the paper Jason said, "And it's a pretty good bet that, if I screw up securing you, I'll be flipping burgers at Mickey D's faster than you can say Ferrari."

Tony laughed as he was pushed up the loading ramp.

"He's looking better than I was led to expect," Mike said, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the two men head into the cargo plane. He then turned and asked, "How is he really, Rhodey?"

"Physically, he's doing well." Rhodey sighed. "There are a few things he still needs to deal with but…" His voice trailed off as a burst of frustration surged up.

"But he's being Tony?" Mike offered.

Rhodey nodded.

"So what's with the…" Mike made a circular motion over his chest.

"Basically it's an electromagnet." Rhodey shrugged. "He took some shrapnel during the attack on the convoy from one of his own RPG's. The magnet's keeping the fragments from piercing his heart."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." Rhodey glanced at Mike. "You might want to consider that classified info, Mike."

"Understood. I'll let the others know."

Mike started for the plane but Rhodey caught his arm and gave him an apologetic look. "Look, just to warn you, it's liable to be a long trip. He's still recovering from his injuries; and it's a good bet he's going to be…"

As he was searching for a good way of phrasing 'a pain in the ass', Mike chuckled and said, "Yeah, I kind of figured that. If it helps any, I raided my son's room before we flew over here. There's a PSP, an iPod, and a beat up laptop loaded with God knows what that he can play with once we're in the air."

"You are a lifesaver, Mike."

Mike rested a hand on Rhodey's shoulder and shook his head. "No, actually it's more I remember what happened the last time he got cooped up in my plane for a long trip. I'd rather not have him trying to upgrade my computers while we're in flight again." He slapped Rhodey's arm and stepped towards the plane. "Relax Colonel, we'll get him home in one piece for you."

"Thanks."

* * *

"We'll be landing in an hour."

Rhodey nodded at Mike. "I'll let Tony know."

As he walked across the cavernous interior of the cargo plane and around a pallet of equipment strapped down to the skids in the center, Rhodey frowned when he noticed Tony, sitting in one of the chairs bolted to the outer wall, was bent over the PSP with a screwdriver in one hand. _I leave you alone for ten minutes… _Sitting on the chair next to Tony, Rhodey waited for the man to acknowledge him and resisted the temptation to pull the screwdriver out of Tony's hand.

Tony stayed focused on the PSP as he reached up to pull the iPod buds out of his ears. "That's not yours, Tony," Rhodey pointed out once Tony had set the iPod aside.

Without looking up from whatever he was doing to the PSP Tony answered, "Hm, if I screw it up, I'll just buy Mike a new one to give to Cory."

Rhodey rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair. He chewed the inside of his lower lip a moment as he watched Tony work, then said impulsively, "You need to talk to someone about what happened to you when we get home, you know."

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "We both know I won't."

Gritting his teeth, Rhodey leaned forward and braced his elbows against his thighs as he scrubbed his face. "Could you at least promise me you'll make the attempt?" he asked.

Tony's gaze remained fixed on the PSP. "Tell you what, if you can find someone I'm willing to listen to, I'll consider it."

Blowing out a frustrated breath as he glared at Tony, Rhodey muttered, "Oh, thanks, put the pressure back on me."

He saw the muscles in Tony's jaw bunch up. "Hey, you're the one who keeps harping on it," he said.

"Because you haven't done a damn thing to deal with what happened to you, Tony!"

"What do you want me to do-- curl up in a fetal position and start sucking on my thumb?" They glared at each other then Tony set the PSP aside and took a deep breath.

Slumping against the seat back, Tony closed his eyes, his hand tight around the screwdriver as he drove the tip into the armrest. "Sorry," he said irritably. "Look, I know you're just trying to help Rhodey, but when you get down to it, this is my problem, not yours; just let me deal with it in my own way, okay?"

"No, it's not okay," Rhodey hissed urgently, "''cause I know you…"

Tony's eyes snapped open. "Do you?" he asked.

There was something in Tony's voice, a harsh demand for honesty that pulled Rhodey up short. "What?" he asked, a shiver of unease running down his spine.

Tony stared at him for a few minutes, studying his face as if he were a flaw in a program Tony couldn't quite figure out, then he shook his head and looked away. Rhodey felt the guilt he associated with failing a test he should have aced wash over him as Tony tap the screwdriver against the armrest.

"Nothing, ignore that," Tony muttered quietly. He dropped the screwdriver next to the PSP. "How long before we land?"

Rhodey pursed his lips. He was missing something important but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was. His mind churning in useless little circles, Rhodey swallowed and answered, "An hour."

"Should clean up and get changed then." He looked across the interior of the cargo plane and frowned. "I think I'm going to need a little help with that."

Rhodey bit back the remark that leapt to his lips, nodded once, and pushed himself out of the chair.

* * *

Once they were on the ground and taxiing off the runway, Rhodey unhooked the wheelchair and rolled it over to Tony. When Tony had a little trouble maneuvering into the wheelchair, Rhodey asked, "Shoulder?"

Tony shook his head. 'Nah, just stiff. Should have walked around a bit."

Rhodey pushed the wheelchair as close to the edge of the loading ramp as he could and locked the wheels before taking up a position on Tony's left. The big plane came to a stop, and Rhodey braced himself as the ramp slowly unfolded.

As he expected, Tony started pushing himself out of the chair before the ramp was completely extended. Tony's movements were slow and a touch unsteady, and Rhodey rested his hands on Tony's shoulders as he stood, supporting him until he was stable.

When the ramp was fully extended, Rhodey started to move away to give Tony some room. Before he could get too far, Tony grabbed his hand and leaned his weight against Rhodey's arm as he took a step forward. Rhodey was a little surprised by that show of weakness, but a quick glance down showed him that Pepper and Happy, Tony's bodyguard and driver, were the only ones waiting for them on the tarmac. If a member of the press had been there, Rhodey knew, Tony would have acted differently.

As it was, Rhodey could feel Tony forcing himself to stand straighter, and his stride became steadier and more confident as they made their way down the ramp. When they reached the bottom, Tony rolled his eyes at the gurney being pushed his way.

"Are you kidding me with this?" He let go of Rhodey's hand and made a shooing gesture as he took a sideways step away from Rhodey and the gurney. He shook his head. "Get rid of them," he muttered as he headed towards Pepper.

Rhodey kept an eye on Tony as he discreetly waved the medical personal away. Except for the sling around one arm, and the still healing cuts on his face, Tony body language now belied the fact he'd just spent the last three months with death hanging over his head. Rhodey knew Tony had to be hurting, but wasn't about to say anything here.

"Your eyes are red." Tony said as he came to a stop in front of Pepper. "A few tears for your long-lost boss?"

Rhodey managed not to roll his eyes at that greeting. _Oh, good one Tony, _he thought as Tony waited for Pepper's response. _Heaven forbid you should say something nice like, 'Hi Pepper, nice to see you again' or 'I missed you.'_

Pepper didn't miss a beat. There was a small smile of delight on her lips as she answered evenly, "Tears of joy. I hate job hunting."

The smile faltered slightly when Tony announced, "Yeah, vacation's over," and headed for the limo without a backwards glance. Rhodey shrugged and shook his head when Pepper gave him a questioning look. "Sorry Pepper,' he said. "I've got no clue what he's thinking."

She sighed. "Well, looks like some things haven't changed." She turned and followed Tony into the limo.

Rhodey waited until Happy expertly maneuvered the Rolls Royce Phantom through the clutter of cars and emergency vehicles around the plane, and then waved off the NCO who offered to give him a lift to his office. He needed to think and the short walk to his office would give him a few minutes to do that.

He was still troubled by Tony's silence, but he was willing to admit he might be blowing things out of proportion. He wondered if taking Tony to Dubai had been a mistake. He absently shook his head. No, he knew by the way Tony's demeanor had changed when he reached the bottom of the loading ramp that going to Dubai had been the right decision. If they had come straight home, Tony would have pretended nothing was wrong and pushed himself straight into intensive care.

Still, maybe Tony was right; maybe he didn't know him as well as he thought. Hell, Pepper probably knew Tony better than he did now. Somewhere over the years his friendship with Tony had become more of a professional relationship than anything else.

Rhodey was surprised at how much that realization hurt.

He shook his head. It didn't matter what he felt, all that mattered was that Tony was home safe and sound, and once he got back into the swing of things, everything would be back to normal.

A wistful smile tugged at Rhodey's lips. _Well, as normal as life with Tony Stark in it can ever be._

As he stepped into his office, his assistant was just hanging up the phone and gave a start when he glanced up and spotted Rhodey. Sergeant Dean Roberts quickly rose to his feet and gave Rhodey a salute.

Rhodey returned the salute and said, "You look surprised to see me."

Dean nodded. "Considering Stark just called a press conference, then yes I am surprised, sir."

Rhodey blinked. "He what?"

Picking up the note he had scribbled on the pad, Dean said, "According to Miss Potts, Mr. Stark is holding a press conference in the lobby at SI headquarters at 1300 hours. She didn't say what it was going to be about." He shrugged. "She sounded a little pissed when she called to give us the heads up."

"I'm sure she did," Rhodey muttered. He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his head. _Damn it Tony, what are you up to now? _He shook his head. Pepper was right, some things never change.

"Right. I better get over there. I'll be back when…" He waved his hand and turned to grab the door handle.

"Wait, sir!" Rhodey looked back then caught the keys that were tossed his way. He shook his head; he'd forgotten he'd given Dean the keys to his Dodge pickup the last time he'd left just in case it needed to be moved.

He nodded to Dean. "I'll be back as soon as I figure out what's going on."

"Yes sir."

Twenty minutes and one press conference later, Rhodey was struggling against a feeling of disappointment in himself and in Tony as he wondered how bad the snap was going to be this time.


	10. Chapter 10

Tony felt a moment of unease as he stepped off the podium and into the surging crowd of reporters, but only a moment. Though it had been several months since he'd had to deal with a situation like the one he had just created it was none the less a familiar one; here he knew what to expect. Here he was the one in control.

_Yeah, right. You know that's an illusion. It may be your name on the building but when was the last time you had anything to do with the running of Stark Industries? Why do you think they're ignoring you now? _Tony thought as the wall of reporters parted to let him through while they shouted questions at Obadiah Stane.

As he reached the back of the crowd, he glanced at Pepper and cringed a bit at what he saw. _Some homecoming this was, huh Pepper. I come back from the dead and instead of saying hi, nice to see you, what's the first thing I do? Insist on a press conference, a few burgers and, oh by the way let me drop this into your lap. Yeah, smooth move there, Tony._

Since he wasn't sure if the expression on Pepper's face was shock or if she was plotting his demise, Tony decided that making himself scarce would probably be in his best interest.

Just beyond Pepper, Rhodey was stepping into the gap that had formed when the reporters at the back of the room had moved forward to get closer to the podium. He was flipping open his cell phone and his stance was stiff and tense. Tony sighed. _Sorry Rhodey, didn't mean to put you in the hot seat like that, but… _He turned away and headed back to the entrance; shifting his thoughts to the first person he was going to have to deal with once things calmed down. _It's going to be interesting to hear what Obie's got to say once he's done doing his thing and comes looking for me_. _Not the first time I've dropped a bomb right in the middle of a press conference and left him to deal with the fallout; though this definitely qualifies as the biggest._

As he pushed open the door of the front entrance and stepped outside, Tony called out, "Shotgun." Happy pushed away from the Rolls Royce Phantom and raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word as he turned and made his way around to the driver's side.

Right behind the Phantom, the black bulk of Rhodey's Dodge Ram was parked so close to the curb that it might as well have been up on the sidewalk. Tony sighed again; he had considered mentioning to Rhodey on the flight back that he was going to hold a press conference, but he knew the first thing Rhodey would have done after hearing that would have been to commandeer a vehicle and dragged his ass straight to the hospital once they had hit the ground. Tony knew he couldn't let that happen-- he trusted Rhodey, as well as Obie and Pepper, too much to allow any of them time to talk him out of his current course of action.

_And they might have done it too. Can't go back now._

Dropping into the limo next to Happy, Tony let his head fall back against the seat and closed his eyes as he slowly blew out a breath between pursed lips. Happy waited until he opened his eyes again before asking, "Where to, boss?"

He thought about that a moment. "Arc Reactor building." Happy nodded and put the limo in motion.

Nothing was said as they drove around the building housing the corporate headquarters of Stark Industries and across the back parking lot to the gated entrance separating the old headquarters from the rest of the complex. Passing through the gate, Happy brought the Phantom to a stop then switched off the engine. Tony stared at the blue light flickering across the black frames of the story high windows, then asked, "So, how much do you want to bet Pepper's going to duck tape me to my office chair and not let me out of it until next year?"

"I don't think I'll take that bet, sir." Tony smiled and looked at Happy.

Happy shrugged his shoulders. "If you want my opinion," he said, "I think you've got a few days grace before she'll feel the need to chain you permanently to your desk."

"Ah. That's good to know." Tony grabbed the handle and popped the latch as he nodded towards the building. "Tell Obie I'm in there when he gets here." Elbowing the door open, he stepped out then leaned back in. "And feel free to take a break," he said, "this might take awhile."

Happy nodded as he handed Tony his pass card. "I'll let Mr. Stane know where you are."

Tony shut the door and headed for the building. The pain killers he had taken just before they touched down were kicking in and the pain in his shoulder was now a dull and distant throb as he fingered the strap on the sling and considered all the ways he might lose the thing between now and going home.

The double set of doors slid open after a quick swipe of the card through the reader. As he walked in he waved the technician who was watching over the Reactor back to his seat. At the railing surrounding the donut-shaped power core Tony stopped and leaned against the railing to stare up at the Arc Reactor.

He had learned the story of the Arc Reactor the way other kids heard fairy tales; an upswing in production demands back during the Vietnam War had brought about a major expansion to Stark Industries in the late '60's and early '70's. The old World War Two assembly plants that made up most of the west coast division had been deemed too expensive to retool though and the decision had been made to just build a new complex around the old one.

The Arc Reactor, build when Tony was around six years old, had been created as a counter to the environmental related protests that arose regarding the expansion; the official press release had touted it as Howard Stark and Stark Industries commitment to cleaner energy sources.

_He probably never even thought about that. He just had an idea, whipped up some plans, figured out how to get the thing to work, then moved on to his next project without a backwards glance. Wasn't much more he could have done with it even if he wanted to though. Would have been like trying to build an F-22 Raptor with the tools in the back of the Wright brother's bicycle shop._

Tony glanced down and rested his hand over the Reactor hidden beneath his shirt. _Lucky for me the technology finally caught up with the concept. _He let out a huff of rueful laughter. _All those breakthroughs? Military funding, honey._

A frown slowly formed as he continued on with that line of thought. _And now that I've halted weapons production, what's next? It's one thing to take away the sticks, but what do you with the guy who was making the stick?_

_For that matter, what do you do with the guy who was holding the stick? He's just going to go looking for another one._

It was a good forty-five minutes before the doors to the Reactor building slid opened again, and Tony had yet to come up with a good answer for the questions in his head. _And now Obie's going to ask me the same thing. Great. Probably should have thought this one through a bit more._

Obadiah Stane entered and came to a stop a few feet away from where Tony was standing. He resting his fists on his hips and stared at Tony a moment before stating around the cigar clenched between his teeth, "That uh, that went well."

Tony glanced away and looked up at the reactor. _Yeah, not the happy welcome back party you were hoping to spin to the press, was it Obie? _"Did I just paint a target on to my head?" Tony asked as he absently smoothed the fabric of the jacket that he had slung over the railing a few minutes earlier. Realizing what he was doing, Tony stopped and started pulling off his tie instead as he listened to Obie approach.

"Your head? What about my head?" Obie closed the distance between them then started pacing back and forth behind Tony as he asked "What do you think the over-under on the stock drop is going to be tomorrow?"

"Uh, optimistically? Forty points," Tony answered as he draped the tie over the railing.

"At minimum."

Tony tensed at the rebuke hidden in that statement. "Yep," he said carefully.

Obie stopped pacing and braced a hand against the railing. He leaned in closed. _Here it comes_.

"Tony, we're a weapons manufacturer--"

Tony turned to face his chief financial officer. "Obie, I just…I didn't want a body count to be our only legacy."

"That's what we do," Obie responded calmly, overriding Tony's statement. "We're iron mongers. We make weapons."

_Not any more. _Shifting in place, feeling more like a little kid trying to convince mom and dad to let him stay up late than the head of a multimillion dollar corporation, Tony pointed out, "It's my name on the side of the building--"

"And what we do keeps the world from falling into chaos," Obie said, his voice firm.

_Have you seen the world lately? _Tony wanted to shout but he clamped down on that outburst and shook his head. "Not based on what I saw." he said instead. Obie stared at him, putting the pressure on without saying a word. "We're not doing a good enough job. We can do better," Tony insisted. "We're gonna do something else."

"Like what? You want us to make baby bottles?" Obie's gaze flicked away from Tony then back, challenging him for an answer.

As he met Obie's gaze, something clicked in the back of Tony's mind. Never break eye contact was one of the first things Obie had drilled into him once he was old enough to understand the business end of things, but Tony realized that Obie's gaze had been all over the place during their discussion. _Wait, no, not all over the place. _Tony narrowed his eyes.

"I think we should take another look into Arc Reactor technology," he said just to see what kind of response he got.

Obie shook his head. "Come on!" he exclaimed, waving the hand holding his cigar at the glowing reactor as he turned away.

_And remember Tony; never turn your back on the competition._

_Gotcha!_

"The Arc Reactor, that's a publicity stunt!" Obie protested as he started to pace again. "Tony, come on. We built that thing to shut the hippies up!"

"It works," Tony stated, confident he had gained the upper hand in the conversation.

"Yeah, as a science project." Obie paced around Tony then leaned against the rail again to look up at the Reactor. "The Arc Reactor was never cost effective. We knew that before we built it."

Tony knew he was being stared at as Obie asked, "Arc Reactor technology; that's a dead end, right?"

"Maybe." _And since someone apparently told you it's not, you're not biting my head off right now, right?_

He stared up at the Reactor as Obie pushed for a better response than maybe. "Am I right? We haven't a breakthrough in that in what? Thirty years?"

"That's what they say." He turned and gave Obie a sideways look. Obie stared back at him.

_Okay, cards on the table then. _"Could you have a lousier poker face?" Tony said. "Just tell me, who told you?"

"Never mind who told me," Obadiah answered instead as he pointed impatiently at Tony's chest. "Show me."

"Rhodey or Pepper? It's Rhodey or Pepper."

"I want to see it."

"Okay, Rhodey." He pulled off the sling and tossed it aside. As he reached up to start unbuttoning his shirt, Obie's gaze darted to something behind him. Tony started to turn to see what Obie was looking at, then remembered the technician and turned back to see what Obie's reaction to his Arc Reactor would be.

Once he had enough or his shirt unbuttoned, he pulled it open and felt a flash of annoyance at the quick calculating look that passed over Obie's face. Obie gave the technician a furtive look before stepping close to button the shirt back up.

"Okay," was all Obie had to say.

"It works," Tony said, an odd mix of pride and reluctance running through him as he spoke.

Obie took a deep breath as if needing to gather his thoughts, then stared at Tony a minute before wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Listen to me, Tony," he said, his voice taking on an authoritative but slightly condescending tone. "We're a team. Do you understand? There's nothing we can't do if we stick together, like your father and I."

It had been a long time since Obie had used that tone of voice on Tony and he felt a moment of uncertainty. "I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads-up, okay? But if I had…"

"Tony. Tony," Obie admonished softly, "no more of this 'ready, fire, aim" business. You understand me?"

"That was Dad's line," Tony stiffened under Obie's one armed embrace, caught off-guard by the memory of one of the few times he had disappointed his father.

As if sensing he might have overstepped a line, Obie paused and took a step back, smiling briefly, before continuing. "You gotta let me handle this. We're gonna have to play a whole different kind of ball now." He gestured towards the door and his tone became more businesslike as Tony picked up his jacket and allowed Obie to steer him away from his father's Reactor.

"We're going to have to take a lot of heat," Obie said. "I want you to promise me that you're gonna lay low."

* * *

Tony's steps were heavy as he finally stepped into his home for the first time in more than three months. He was beginning to wish that he had taken Obie up on his offer to lay low right then and there in the Arc Reactor building, but he knew eventually he would have to make an appearance in his office and had decided to get that over with as quickly as possible.

Pepper had not taped him to his desk chair, but she had pinned him down with a pile of papers that needed to be signed _right here, right now_, that had kept him in the office for several hours.

As he walked down the hall leading to the living section of the mansion, he could hear the steady trickle of the waterfall sculpture build into the wall by the stairs leading up to the bedrooms. He wondered briefly if Jarvis or Pepper had turned it on while he was gone, or if the place had remained silent the whole time he was gone.

The lights slowly came up as he walked deeper into the living room. "Welcome home sir," Jarvis said softly.

"Thank you kindly Jarvis." Tony slowly pulled off his tie. Now that he was alone, he could not ignore the growing ache in his shoulder and he contemplated whether or not he should take another pill. _Sure didn't help that Obie decided to be my right hand man at the press conference and kept patting that shoulder._

"It's been a long time," the AI said as Tony bunched the tie up as he glanced around the room. "Based on news reports, I calculated your safe return at zero point two five percent." Tony almost smiled at the reflective tone in Jarvis's voice as he settled on a footstool, set the tie down, and watched the fireplace light up.

"Yep. I missed you too." Looking down at the table in front of him, he was surprised to see a small gift box sitting there. He leaned forward and picked it up. Inside, there was a watch and a note that said; _Thank God it wasn't your time. -Obadiah_.

_Nice,_ Tony thought as he tossed the box back on the table and stood. As tired as he was, he couldn't fight the need to keep moving. The room was too quiet and he realized he was waiting for Rhodey to show up and tell him to get to bed.

_Wonder when Pepper'll be in to tell me that. _

He suspected it would be quite a while before he wound down enough to get any sleep. He shed his jacket and tossed it on the couch on his way over to the floor to ceiling windows that gave him a view of the Californian coastline. As dark as it was, there wasn't much more for him to see beyond a line of lights running along the horizon.

His gaze swept over the black empty expanse of water between the coast and the mansion, then he pursed his lips together when he caught himself searching for signs of anything threatening. _Like anyone's going to be able to reach me up here, _he thought. He sighed inwardly at the connotations hidden in that thought.

"You have one thousand seven hundred and thirteen new voice messages," Jarvis said, interrupting his thoughts. The AI projected the list to the window before him, then asked, "How shall I categorize for you?"

Tony stared at the files flashing up on the surface of the window and reached up to flip through the first few messages, most of which echoed the sentiments in Obie's note, while the rest wanted clarification as to what exactly was being shut down. He looked at the master list and saw that the timestamps on the top forty messages were within the last three hours.

_What the hell_. _Obie wanted me to lay low; might as well start now._

"Delete all." He tapped the window, closing screens and shooting the lot into the virtual trash. He was surprised at how good that felt before kicking himself mentally for thinking that._ Better get used to dealing with shit like that yourself if you plan on taking control of your life, let alone Stark Industries._

As he turned away from the window, Jarvis commented, "I'm detecting the presence of an electromagnetic pulse in the house." Tony glanced down at his chest, not quite sure why Jarvis would be pointing that fact out, then remembered that the scanners in Dubai weren't as sophisticated as the ones here; Jarvis had been forced to rely on the video and audio feeds there to keep an eye on him.

Amusement stirred in Tony. _Well, have I got a surprise for you, Jarvis. _He felt a burst of energy that countered the weariness that had filled him upon entering the mansion as he said, "Boot up the scanner will you?"

He was almost to the stairs leading down to the workroom, when Jarvis said, "Sir?"

Pausing, Tony glanced up. "What?"

"You wished me to reminder you that you wanted to reprogram me."

A small smile quirked Tony's lips. "I did, didn't I. Tell you what Jarvis, since everything worked out we'll leave the protocols in place for now. We'll review them if I ever get incapacitated again." He started down the stairs and added under his breath, "Not that that's ever going to happen again."

"Sir, the probability that you'll be incapacitated again is--"

"Jarvis."

"Yes?'

"Rather not hear those numbers right now, thanks."

"As you wish," Jarvis said, sounding a little annoyed at being cut off before he could finish. Tony chuckled as he entered his workroom and thought about all the ways he could improve the Arc Reactor in his chest now that he was finally home.


	11. Chapter 11

"Stark was missing for three months, a lot could have happen to him in that time," General William Gabriel said, the unspoken question-- what _did_ happen to him during those three months?_-- _hanging in the air as he waited for Rhodey's response. The question had become a familiar one; the Air Force, the DOD, and Homeland Security had all asked him the same question since he'd gotten back.

Rhodey mentally sighed. _Considering the huge hole in his chest, he probably wasn't even conscious for most of those months._

He briefly wondered how SHIELD was going to phrase that particular question when they got a chance to talk to him. That meeting was currently tied up in a knot of security clearance details; Rhodey suspected it was the Air Forces' way of telling SHIELD they were pissed off at having one of their own investigated by outsiders.

"A lot could happen sir," Rhodey said, "but I'm guessing he spent most of it trying to figure out how to get away while doing the most damage possible." He shook his head. "He does specialize in blowing things up."

Gabriel reluctantly smiled at that comment. "That may be Colonel, but we're still taking about three months here."

Giving in to a surge of frustration, Rhodey leaned forward and said, "Did you read the medical reports?" Gabriel raised an eyebrow in question. Rhodey waved a hand. "The wounds and the type of invasive surgery Tony had aren't something you can get up and walk away from, especially under the conditions he was dealing with. Even if they _had_ wanted him to do something, I don't see how he could have."

"He would have been vulnerable during his recovery time though. They could have taken advantage of that, brainwashing him--"

"We're talking about Tony Stark here," Rhodey said dismissively, irritated enough to interrupt the General. "Tony doesn't think like other people, he'd know what they were trying to do to him"

The General narrowed his eyes. "We're talking about a civilian who was most likely subjected to some means of physical torture, Colonel."

"From my experience, the more you try and force Tony to do something, the more he's going to dig in his heels and not do it. And Tony may be a civilian, but he grew up in a military environment; he's used to having people with guns around him."

Gabriel frowned. "But not pointed at him. He's not trained to deal with that kind of situation."

Rhodey shook his head. "You can have all the training in the world; that doesn't guarantee you won't freeze up the first time you come under fire."

"You have a valid point" Gabriel nodded his head then asked, " Any idea how long it's going to be before Stark decides what he's going to do with Stark Industries?"

"I have no idea, sir. If I hear anything I'll let you know."

"Hopefully you'll be hearing from him soon." Gabriel stood. "Thank you for your time Colonel."

Rhodey rose to his feet. "General." He watched Gabriel walk out of his office then sat down and rubbed his face.

As he dropped his hands, a movement caught his attention. He looked at the entrance to his office and found Mike glancing in. "Saw the General heading out and thought I'd check to see if you were still in one piece," the C-17 pilot said.

Rhodey nodded. "I am so far."

Mike crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. "Heard anything from Tony?"

"Not a damn thing." Rhodey rested his elbows on his desk and fiddled with a pen.

There was a moment of silence then Mike said, "It's a bit hard to believe Tony's getting out of the weapon's business."

"Yeah. I'm guessing he decided that on the flight home." Rhodey shook his head and said more to himself than to Mike, "I should have expected something was up when he was so quiet."

"What, you're blaming yourself for that? Rhodey, he probably didn't say anything to make sure you couldn't talk him out of it."

"Which is why I should have made him talk on the flight home." He smacked the pen against the desktop and looked up at Mike. "Hell, I should have left him at the base to talk to the specialists there who could help him deal with what happened to him!"

A chuckle from Mike caught Rhodey by surprise. "Oh, like that would have gone over well. Can you really see Tony having a heart to heart with a therapist? If he opens up to anyone about what happened, if he ever opens up, it's going to be to someone he trusts, not to some stranger. You know that." Glancing down at his watch, Mike straightened and said, "Ah, sorry, I need to get going. Gotta get ready for that pickup for NASA."

Leaning back in his chair, Rhodey said, "You know, I'm actually jealous of you guys getting that assignment."

Mike grinned. "Yeah well, you need to let someone else play with the high tech toys from time to time Rhodey."

Rhodey smiled and nodded his head. "I suppose. I'll see you later, Mike."

"See ya."

As Mike left, Rhodey stared at the paperwork on his desk, then took a deep breath and grabbed a file to try and find a few outside companies who had the ability to pick up the now idle Stark Industries contracts.

* * *

Rubbing his forehead to relieve the pressure headache he had going as he stuck the key into the door to his apartment, Rhodey had the sudden urge to drive over to Tony's place to duck tape the man to a chair until he made a decision regarding Stark Industries. Over the last week, Rhodey had come to the conclusion that there was no one out there who could pick up SI's contracts. The only two companies in the world that had the ability to handle the contracts were a former military contractor in Japan who had switched over to producing high tech gaming equipment, and a British company currently tied up in a huge contract with UNIT.

At this rate, half the SI Air Force contracts were going to be scraped or seriously scaled back.

Shouldering the door open, Rhodey tossed the keys on the side table his answering machine sat on, the keys clattering noisily as they slid across the tabletop, and reached up to pull off his jacket but froze when he sniffed the air.

_Cigar smoke?_

Quickly pressing his back against the wall, Rhodey glanced around for something he could use as a weapon, silently cursing himself for getting caught off guard, when a voice said, "Could've shot ya by now if I wanted to, Colonel."

Knowing that was the truth, Rhodey gritted his teeth, braced himself and cautiously stepped into his living room.

Sitting on the Eames couch Tony had given him when he'd gotten the apartment a few years back was a tall man, dressed in a black Kevlar SHIELD combat uniform with a cigar firmly clenched between his teeth and an eyepatch covering his left eye.

_Oh, shit._

"Got a couple of questions for you, Colonel," Colonel Nickolas Fury, Executive Director of SHIELD, said clearly around the cigar.

Rhodey fought down a surge of anger. "I'm sure you do." He yanked off his jacket and threw it at a chair. "And my answers haven't changed. You could've save yourself the B and E charge by just pulling the transcripts from all the other interviews I've had this week."

"Already have, and I didn't break in to talk to ya about Stark, Colonel."

"Then what the hell are you doing in my apartment?"

"Came to talk about you."

"What?"

Fury stood and tossed the cigar onto a plate that held the remains of the breakfast Rhodey hadn't had time to clean up before stepping around the triangular glassed topped table that separated them. He stopped a few steps away from Rhodey and crossed his arms.

"Why'd ya keep looking for Stark?" he asked.

"What the hell kind of question is that?"

Fury narrowed his good eye. "A simple one, I would 'a thought.

"I kept looking because he's my friend," Rhodey almost shouted as he threw out his arms in exasperation.

"And?"

"There is no 'and'."

"Right. You risked your career to go looking for a man who was most likely dead."

Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Obviously he wasn't."

"All the clues pointed to the possibility that he was. And the formal search was called off two months after the attack for lack of evidence, and yet you kept looking."

"Because the evidence wasn't conclusive. Look, Tony was lost in the middle of a combat zone; what was I supposed to do, just abandon him there?"

"Didn't look like he needed your help considering the damage he did during his escape."

"They were using weapons Tony designed, of course he'd use them against his captors."

"Right, and who sold them the weapons in the first place? Most of the weapons that were found were earmarked for either the Air Force or Army. As the military liaison to Stark Industries you should have been able to figure out what shipments went missing. Instead, you kept running out to Afghanistan on a fool's errand."

_What? _Rhodey stared at Fury in mute astonishment. _How the hell was I supposed to do that?_

Fury took a step closer. Rhodey stiffened and clenched his fists. "And care to explain how you managed to find Stark in the middle of nowhere several miles from where he was being held?" Fury asked as he leaned into Rhodey's personal space. "A lot of people would find it hard to believe that was just dumb luck."

The accusation lurking behind Fury's comments was enough to snap the little self-control Rhodey had left. He was swinging his fist at Fury's face before he was even aware of what he was doing, but the man had no trouble avoiding the punch and quickly grabbed Rhodey's wrist, twisting him around to pin him face first against the wall.

Rhodey was sure Fury was smirking even though his expression stayed the same as he leaned in close to say, "And this is why we're having this conversation here instead of at the office. SHIELD agents tend to react badly to someone taking a swing at the boss."

"You were waiting for me to do that, weren't you," Rhodey panted as he tried to reign in his anger.

Fury let go and took a step back. "More like hoping you would."

Scowling as he turned, rubbing his wrist, Rhodey asked, "Any particular reason why?"

"If you had made excuses for Stark or started yelling for a lawyer after those last two question instead of taking a swing at me, then I'd start thinking maybe you were involved in whatever's going on at Stark Industries."

"Tony isn't--"

"I didn't say Stark, I said Stark Industries."

The distinction brought Rhodey up short. "I knew Howard Stark," Fury said. "If his son's anything like his father was, it wouldn't occur to him to betray his country. Figured you'd be a good indicator as to how much like his father he might be."

Frowning, Rhodey asked, "So Tony isn't your prime suspect?"

Fury shook his head. "He's the primary suspect in SHIELD's investigation as to how those weapons got in the Ten Rings' hands, but Stark's lack of involvement in the running of his father's company before the kidnapping puts him pretty low on my list of suspects."

Rhodey gave Fury a questioning look. "Aren't you technically SHIELD?"

Fury shrugged. "I've been wrong before." The head of SHIELD headed for the door. "I've got what I need." He paused and glanced over his shoulder as he opened the door, He gave Rhodey a grim smile. "And I'm a firm believer in dumb luck," he said as he closed the door.

As the door clicked shut, Rhodey sank into a chair and stared at the leftovers and cigar sitting on the table as he wondered for the umpteenth time if things would ever get back to normal.


	12. Chapter 12

Tony braced his elbows against the desk and rubbed eyes that were gritty from lack of sleep and too many hours in front of a computer.

Opening them, he stared at the financial report displayed on the screen. Intellectually he had known what the results of his actions at the press conference would be, but it was still painful seeing it all laid out in black and white.

Going by the report, shutting down weapons production had resulted in him effectively laying off thirty percent of Stark Industries's workforce, with another fifteen projected to go idle within three months if production remained at a standstill. It would also result in a domino effect among the companies who supplied or relied on SI for parts which could potentially cripple almost half of all high tech weapons manufacturing in the northern hemisphere within six months if he left things the way they were.

He scanned over Obie's notes, sighed, then opened one of the shipping manifests that matched the serial numbers on the equipment he had handled in the Ten Rings camp.

There was no doubt in Tony's mind why Obie had attached the financial report to the shipping manifest files; it was a heads up and a rebuke all rolled into one. He shook his head. _Sorry Obie, but I_ _can't let weapons production start up again until we figure out where SI operations failed, though I'll agree with you that I can't leave production at a stand still much longer. There won't be a company left to rebuild if I do._

_But what do I want Stark Industries to do when I start it back up? _He rubbed his temple and glanced down at the bump caused by the new Arc Reactor Pepper had helped him install yesterday that was beneath his t-shirt. O_ne thing to spout off to a reporter about all the beneficial technologies we've spun off of weapon development, another thing entirely to base the whole company around those technologies._

He knew he should just sit down with Obie and start bouncing ideas around, but he needed a solid base to work from before approaching his chief financial officer.

_If I don't know what direction to go in, Obie will pick it for me and that'll just put me right back to square one._

Before he could indulge in a moment of self pity, there was a familiar electronic click. Tony heard the door to the workroom slid open and lazily spun his chair around to watched Pepper approach, grateful for the distraction until he noticed the folder she had cradled in one arm and the puzzled look on her face.

Leaning back, using one foot to rock his chair back and forth as he raised an eyebrow in question, Tony asked, "What? Have I got food stuck on my face or something?"

She shook her head. "I haven't heard any music down here since you've got back," she replied.

Tony gave her a startled smile when he realize she was right. He turned back to the computer. "Yeah, well, enjoy it while you can."

A stack of papers landed with a thump on the edge of his desk. He glanced up. Pepper smiled sweetly and held a pen in front of his face. Tony rolled his eyes.

"What, more stuff for me to sign?" Tony pushed his chair sideways and took the pen. "I just did this yesterday."

"You were gone for three month. We're only up to month two right now."

Tony waved the hand holding the pen. "You didn't just forge my name?"

She gave him a narrowed-eyed look which only made Tony smile. _You'll never know how much I missed that look while I was gone, Pepper._

As he worked his way through the papers, he asked casually, "You're not mad about yesterday, are you?" He watched her reaction out of the corner of his eyes.

Pepper looked surprised by the question. "Mad?" She bit her lower lip and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear; a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "No, I'm not mad. I'd prefer that you never ask me to do something like that again but…" Her voice trailed off and she fell into an uneasy silence.

Tony sighed. _I shouldn't have put that much pressure on you; I should have called Rhodey to help with putting in the new Arc Reactor. Not sure why I didn't though he probably wouldn't have had any more luck fixing the problem than I did._

_I'm sure mentioning I was going into cardiac arrest didn't help much either. Yeah, gave my idiot of a boss a hand killing himself today._

Wanting to break the silence that had fallen between them, Tony stated, "But you are annoyed, pissed, exasperated--" The confusion on Pepper's face switched to exasperation and Tony chuckled softly as he returned the pen and paperwork and went back to the files on the computer. "Have you heard anything from Rhodey?" he asked as he started scrolling through the other shipping manifests.

Pepper placed the paperwork back into the folder. "No, why? Were you expecting a call?"

He paused his scrolling and gave her a surprised look. Pepper shook her head. "Tony, until you start up production again, it's not like Stark Industries needs a military liaison. I'm sure the Air Force has plenty of things to keep Rhodey busy with while you figure out what it is you're going to do with the company."

"Do you think I did the wrong thing, shutting down production like that?" he asked before he could stop himself.

She shrugged her shoulders. "It doesn't matter what I think, it's your company. I do think you might have found a better way to go about it though."

_No more of this ready, fire, aim business, Tony. You're my son, I expect better from you._

He stared at the files filling his screen as his father's voice echoed through his mind. _Shutting down production_ _was the right thing to do, _he thought fiercely_. We need to change the way we work and what we do._ His gaze drifted down the screen to the Mark I icon where the cleaned up schematics of the suit from his Dubai notes were waiting to be filed into the main database.

_When are you going to tell Rhodey about the suit?_ Tony shook his head and looked up to find Pepper frowning at him as she held the folder against her chest.

"Have you gotten any sleep since you got back?" she asked quietly.

_Okay, not in the mood to answer that question now._ "I better go see how pissed Rhodey is," he said as he pushed away from the workstation. "I'll be back later." He quickly shut down the computer and ignored Pepper's sigh as he grabbed his jacket and the keys to the Audi. By the time he looked back, Pepper was already heading up the stairs, her head bent as she punched something into her Blackberry.

He watched her go then sighed and dropped into the Audi.

* * *

As he headed out of Malibu, Tony's mind kept turning over the numbers from the financial report until he finally flipped on some music to try and block them out. The music wasn't enough though so he let his mind drift to the Mark I schematics.

By the time he hit the turnoff for 14 north of San Fernando, Tony realized just how much Rhodey's input could help in straightening out a few aerodynamic issues the suit had. Going up and coming down was no problem, and it would be easy enough to incorporate adjustable surface panels to control any roll and yaw tendencies the suit might have, but pitch- that was going to be a challenge. Balancing the thrust output on four independently working repulsor units to keep the wearer of the suit from flipping head over ass was going to take some work-- getting a pilot's feedback would certainly streamline the concept to prototype work that needed to be done.

As he exited 14 onto Rosamond Boulevard, a little voice pointed out, _You could have told him about the suit in Dubai but you held back. Why are you telling him now? Is it guilt that's making you drive all the way out here, or do you really want his input on the project?_

_Of course I want Rhodey in on this._

_But it's Colonel Rhodes you'll be talking to here, remember, not Rhodey. Do you really want the military liaison to Stark Industries to know about the suit, especially when you still don't know how tech from SI is getting into the wrong hands?_

_Rhodey had nothing to do with that._

_Doesn't mean someone isn't using him the same way someone might be using you._

Tony felt a chill at that thought.

Burying the questions that idea brought up, Tony stopped at the main gate to pick up his visitor pass and to find out where Rhodey was, then headed over to the hanger Rhodey was supposed to be herding a batch of trainees through. Stepping through the partially open hanger doors, Tony pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them into his leather jacket then paused a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dark interior of the hanger.

The sound of a jet engine cycling up outside echoed off the walls, and Tony automatically identified the sound as a Pratt & Whitney F119 engine on an F- 22 Raptor, one of many fighters the Air Force had received over the last decade from Stark Industries after SI won the Advanced Tactical Fighter contract over Lockheed and Northrop Grumman's bids a few months before his parents had died.

_I'm sure Rhodey and Obie have been catching hell about that contract since the press conference. We still owe the Air Force, what, 64 Raptors under that one?_

Tony shook his head and walked further into the hanger, heading for the office built against one wall, but changed course when he spotted Rhodey and his trainees passing between the Raptor and the Northrup Grumman RQ-4 Global Hawk surveillance aircraft sitting in the middle of the hanger.

Rhodey was dressed in his one piece flight suit, same as his trainees, and Tony could hear his enthusiasm for his job running under his speech as he said, "The future of air combat, is it manned, or unmanned? I'll tell ya, in my experience, no unmanned aerial vehicle will ever trump a pilot's instinct, his insight, that ability to look into a situation beyond the obvious and discern its outcome; or a pilot's judgment--"

Thinking of his brief flight in the Mark I suit, Tony interrupted as he made his way around the low narrow wing of the Global Hawk. "Colonel? Why not a pilot without a plane."

Rhodey turned in surprise, then grinned as he held out an arm and said, "Look who fell out of the sky, Mr. Tony Stark."

Fighting down a bout of unease similar to what he felt at the press conference as he stopped in front of the trainees, Tony said, "Speaking of manned or unmanned, gotta get him to tell you about the time he chose wrong at spring break-- just remember that, spring break 1987. That lovely lady you woke up with--"

"Don't do that," Rhodey said as he gave him an amused, exasperated look. The trainees, on the other hand, were fighting to keep their expressions appropriately serious in front of their instructor as they listened to Tony speak.

"What was his name?"

"Don't do that," Rhodey repeated as a few of the trainees began to laugh.

"Was it Ivan?"

Rhodey shook his head, smiling. "Don't do that, they'll believe that."

Tony stopped and returned the smile then turned to the trainees to give them a quick nod.

"Give us a couple of minutes, you guys," Rhodey said, chuckling softly.

As the trainees passed around him, the unease grew. Tony tried to pin down why the feeling was lingering instead of fading like it had before, but was distracted when Rhodey slapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm surprised," he said. "I swear, I didn't expect to see you walking around so soon."

There was something off with Rhodey's tone of voice and Tony tensed up as he said cautiously, "I'm doing a little better than walking."

An emotion Tony couldn't name passed over Rhodey's face as he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Really?" Tony could hear the doubt in his voice.

Tony managed not to scowl at that. _We're not going there,_ he thought irritably, _and I told you, I don't need to talk to anyone about what happened either. _A little put off by Rhodey's attitude, Tony tried to get back on track. He lowered his voice and leaned forward.

"Rhodey, I'm working on something big. I came to talk to you. I want you to be a part of it."

"You're about to make a whole lot of people around here real happy," Rhodey said with a relieved smile, though his stance remained stiff, "cause that little stunt at the press conference, that was a doozy."

Tony shook his head and felt his defenses going up. _That's not why I'm here, Rhodey! _"This is not for the military, I'm not…" He trailed off when Rhodey began to frown. "It's different," he said softly.

"What, you're a humanitarian now or something?"

_No! Hell, where did that come from? "_I need you to listen to my--"

"No," Rhodey said sharply, "what you need is time to get your mind right." They stared at one another and Tony smiled tightly.

_My mind is fine! Damn it, I'm finally taking control of my life here and you want me to stop? What the hell, Rhodey!_

The smile slipped away and he took a mental step back as he searched Rhodey's face, but it was as if a wall had suddenly formed between them.

_Is this what our friendship is to you? _Tony thought. _Just business and nothing more?_

_When did this happened? This didn't need to be fixed, did it? Or have I been blind about our friendship on top of everything else?_

_I didn't fuck this up too, did I?_

Rhodey moved away from him and Tony did nothing to stop him. "Nice seeing you Tony," Rhodey said.

"Thanks." Tony stood in the center of the hanger and watched Rhodey and the trainees leave, then walked out of the hanger back to the Audi. After settling behind the wheel, he stared out the window past the runway out to the bright dusty surface of Rogers Dry Lake for a few minutes, then started the engines and headed for the road out of Edwards.

* * *

When he realized he'd been staring at his bedroom ceiling long enough to make out its texture again, Tony flipped the blanket back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He scrubbed his face then dropped his hands in his lap.

_This isn't working, _he thought as he looked at his hands. _I can't keep doing this lying in bed staring at the ceiling thing._

He pushed off the bed and headed for the bathroom, ignoring the almost full bottle of sleeping pills sitting on the counter. Stepping into the shower and closing his eye as he let the water pour down on him, Tony wondered how many more sleepless nights he was going to have to put up with.

"_What you need is time to get your mind right."_

Tony braced his hands against the wall of the shower and bowed his head.

_I thought that was what I was doing. _He ran a hand over his face, pushing damp strands of hair off his forehead. _Seems the more I try to fix things, the more I'm fucking thing up. I need...shit, I don't know what I need. _

He pushed off the wall. _And I don't know who I can trust anymore. Well, Pepper of course but she can't help me figure out what I need._

A very unprofessional thought crossed Tony's mind and he rolled his eyes at himself. _Okay, that's not the need I need fixed right now. _It did start a curious line of thought though and Tony mulled over the concept of having an actual relationship with someone instead of a string of one night stands as he picked up the shampoo and started lathering up. Not something he would have considered before, but it was certainly a more interesting subject than Obie's numbers and Rhodey's cold shoulder treatment.

Quickly washing up then toweling off and throwing on some clothes, he headed down to the main floor in search of caffeine. The house was quiet-- it was still too early for Pepper to be in-- as he wandered into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee.

Pulling down a black mug with a white Stark Industries logo emblazoned on the side, Tony put it under the spout of the coffee machine and tapped the marble counter top as he waited for the coffee to brew.

_Thinks it's time for me to try a new approach. _He rapped out an uneven rhythm on the counter then started pacing.

_I can't do everything. Obie knows his job, if anyone can track down where the missing shipments got waylaid, Obie can; I just need to give him time to do. And I need to be honest with myself-- I don't know what the hell I'm looking for._

_I'm not going to learn how to run SI in a week, or hell, even a month. I need to be patient. Baby steps first._

_In the meantime, I need to do something to clear my mind. _He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. He thought about the Mark I.

_Maybe that's the way to go-- build a suit that can be used for something other than military operations. Just have to make sure no one finds out about it before I finish. Don't want to give anyone ideas._

Feeling surprisingly good now that he had a course of action in mind, he grabbed the full mug of coffee and headed for the workroom.

Settling down at the 3-D workstation, he took a deep breath and tapped the keyboard to bring the system on line.

"Jarvis, you up?"

"For you, sir, always."

"I'd like to open a new project file, index as Mark Two." He opened the file, picked up a slim pen-shaped pointer, aimed it at screen and captured the file so he could drag it over to the holographic table.

"Shall I store this on the Stark Industries Central Database?" Jarvis asked as he released the file and stuck the pointer in his pocket as he stood.

"Actually, I don't know who to trust right now." _Because the one person I was going to trust with this doesn't seem to exist anymore. _

The 3-D version of the file spread out into component parts, then reassembled as Tony walked around the table. As it returned to it's original state, Tony spotted several of the redundant sections he had put in to support mainline system functions in case something failed because of the jury-rigged nature of the Mark I suit.

He had the parts now though.

"Till further notice," he said, "why don't we just keep everything on my private server?"

"Working on a secret project, are we, sir?"

He pressed his lips together as he reached out and began removing everything he no longer needed and tossed them into the virtual trash. _It is now. "_I don't want this winding up in the wrong hands. Maybe in mine, it can actually do some good."

Tony spun the file and considered where to begin.

End of Part One- TBC in Found, But Still Searching: Reset

* * *

Author's note- Just want to thank everyone following this story and I really appreciate all the comments! I'm still plotting out Part Two (I wasn't planning on novelizing parts of the movie but realized that, to tell the full story, I'm going to have to.) Because the narrative structure changes and the crossover aspects start appearing, I'll be posting it as a new story. Thanks for reading!


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